A Midnight Clear
by GillianRose
Summary: A collaboration between GillianRose and CharlieBZ. Mal and Inara, making plans on Christmas Eve. Set after the BDM. Parts 1 and 2 are PG. Parts 3 and 4 approach R. Chapter 5 - after the party. Rated R.
1. Chapter 1

Last minute Christmas shopping was something Mal had very little experience with. Back home on Shadow, Christmas gifts were ordered through the Cortex in early autumn and sent to the ranch. And then… after... for too many years he'd either been too sick, too angry, too poor, or too alone to mark the day at all. Mal turned his mind away from the still-painful memories and concentrated on his more recent history. He let his gaze scan the late-afternoon crowd bustling around him, packing both sides of the cheery lane of stores.

This placid world was just what Mal wanted for Christmas week. Far from the Core, with all the black armbands and debate over the appropriate observances to honor the dead and the...lost. Inescapable and oppressive newsreels. Political machinations. Hearings. Petitions. Civil unrest. All he needed was a town or two, big enough to have a store full of the decorative, useless stuff that so beguiled Kaylee. And, reliably, snow. An excuse to get everyone off the ship for a good span of hours tomorrow. Make some new memories.

Memories that his crew was all too eager to forge. Kaylee and River had made it a month-long project, scouring the ship for anything colorful or shiny that could be repurposed as an ornament for the tree. Even Jayne had contributed, returning to the ship one afternoon with a length of twine and some shiny silver foil. He'd handed it over to Kaylee gruffly, and only grumbled when she complimented him on such a good idea, but he'd looked on that evening to see the girls carefully folding foil triangles into tiny stars and stringing them along the twine.

And Zoe had insisted on getting the tree. Mal saw how she was trying for all of them, not wanting to dampen the crew's fragile spirit. Her pain was there but so was her desire to participate, be a part of their family. After their last job, she had disappeared into the city only to return toting a large bag. She winked at Kaylee, smiled softly at River, then secreted the bag in her bunk. Couldn't be easy for her, he knew that, but she was trying.

Last year... Zoe and Wash had spent the day planetside. Jayne had honored his yearly tradition of finding a sentimental working girl to pass the day with. River had been flat fucking crazy, Simon homesick and depressed, Kaylee alternating between mooning and fretting. And Inara had been gone.

But she was here today. With him. Looking like a princess just stepped out of a Christmas storybook, bundled up and nowhere near as inconspicuous as princesses in disguise always hoped to be. As long as they'd been together, he was still not habituated to her beauty. They might spend the entire day together, in calm routine, and suddenly a glance at her would leave him startled and wondering.

They stepped carefully through the snow, picking their way slowly through the crowded street. Their pace was leisurely, had become more leisurely the longer they shopped. They lingered over the littlest thing, chatting and strolling, each secretly intent on prolonging their time together before returning to the ship.

The man, who had caught his eye earlier as they came out of the last store, was still loitering by a wagon. Mal nodded at the speculative gleam in the little man's eyes. He was drinking something from a thermos, and the contents were steaming into the night air. The man nearly cackled as he raised his cup to Mal, then inclined his wizened head toward a kiosk a few dozen paces down the lane.

Mal, who had been feeling a mite on the festive side, now felt downright pleased with himself, for he had just hatched a brilliant plan. And the object of his plan, who had her arm lightly resting on his, needed to be elsewhere.

"Why don't you get started whilst I call back to the boat?"

"Worried about Jayne and the hunt for a tree?" She teased.

"Something like that," he responded with an easy grin.

He commed Zoe, watching as Inara pulled open the door to the store, then waited as a large group of shoppers emerged onto the streets, packages in hand. She glanced back at him, smiling. Smiles and glances - it was mostly what they'd done all evening, and he was getting used to it.

"Find what you're looking for, sir?" Zoe asked by way of greeting.

There was something in her tone that made Mal choose not to respond to her question. "All set there, Zo?"

"Jayne's setting the tree up now." Zoe proceeded to give him status of the other Christmas preparations of which Mal only partially paid attention. His eyes followed Inara as she browsed. Through the lightly frosted windowpane, she met his gaze. waved, and held up a garish belt. She mouthed the words "For Jayne." Her eyes amused, smiling over the ridiculous overly decorative belt meant for some man. Not Jayne.

"Weather's turning. Fresh round of snow's due in soon. You want me to pick you up in the shuttle, sir?"

"No!" He exclaimed with more force than he had intended. "No," he said more evenly. "Got no call for that."

He could just see the look Zoe was sending him. An eyebrow was surely being raised. The I'm-wise-to-you-eyebrow. "Other plans, sir?"

He searched her tone, trying to find censure, resentment and found none. Wanting to give his full attention to Zoe, he turned away from watching Inara. "Everything alright?"

She sighed, taking time before answering him. "Told you I'm fine with all this. Lookin' forward to it."

"We don't have to do this..." He wanted to, though. Everyone did. But if a celebration brought more grief to Zoe, he'd make excuses, assume the role of Grinch.

She was quiet again. "If wanting him back bad enough could accomplish it, the man'd be back ten times over. But that ain't the case. I've got livin' to do. Livin' that hurts, but livin' nonetheless."

They fell silent not needing to say any more on that topic. "And what would we do with all our archetype cookies?" Zoe's voice sounded overly bright.

"That would be what?"

"Don't know. But River's been working on 'em all day."

He sighed with relief. The one niggling gray area of the day had cleared. "We'll be there...later," he said, looking at the man he could hear barking out offers of transport.

Mal ended the wave and hurried over to the little man, who was still perched on the driver's bench of his carriage. Not a carriage, Mal saw as he approached. A sleigh. That was sensible, Mal decided, although slow – it was bulky, and the drafthorses pulling it did not look inclined to speed of any kind. Looking closely at their massive size, Mal didn't imagine much got them ruffled enough to hurry. This world had a long winter and the vehicle looked adaptable, as though the body might accommodate wheels in warm weather, runners for the snow.

"How much to the Ives Docks?" Mal asked the driver.

"Got some stops to make on the way, but I reckon that suits you." The man smiled, croaked out a price, and Mal nodded again.

"Gotta hit a few more shops. That'll work with your departure?"

"That'll be fine. Mayhap you should pick up a little sustenance for the ride, though. Chill's bound to creep in."

"What's that?" Mal asked, eyeing the man's steaming drink.

"Miss Agatha's most tasty cocoa. A sweet treat, to be sure."

Inara emerged from the shop and Mal gave the man a quick nod and hurried off not seeing the man's amused smile.

"Are we stranded?" Inara asked placing her hand on his arm.

"_Strande_d is merely an opportunity for a manly and admirable rescue plan. But, no." He glanced at the package she was carrying. "Tell me they didn't have that belt in Jayne's size."

She handed him a big, tin canister. Mal looked at it suspiciously wondering what he was giving his merc. "This...inflammatory in any way?"

"Beef jerky, Mal," Inara said.

"Maybe I should try it..." he pretended to open the canister. Inara grabbed his hand, chiding him with her laughing eyes. She tugged, assuming the role of protector of the jerky. Kept her soft hand on his, so he upped his act, shaking the tin with an air of hungry speculation.

"You can't eat other people's presents, Mal. Even Jayne is probably expecting an unmolested Christmas gift."

Mal shrugged as he pretended to capitulate, and Inara slowly let her hand fall away, still watching him with merry suspicion. He opened the larger shopping bag he'd relieved Inara of earlier, and added the jerky to their haul as they continued on their way.

He opened the door to another shop, stepping back to let Inara in. As she swept past him, the scent of her perfume did to him what it always did. Made him want to breathe deep and follow. Want to stay close enough to her to breathe her in again, stay in that rarefied and special atmosphere she created around herself. Like the incense, or the home-grown approximation of incense the priests had used in the church of his boyhood, the very air let a man know he had passed beyond the everyday world and into the presence of something extraordinary. Maybe that was blasphemy. Mal hoped it was.

They worked their way through the throng of shoppers. Despite the crowded conditions, the happiness in the atmosphere was infectious.

"Excuse me!" A friendly, burly man apologized as he bumped into Inara. Her grip on Mal's arm tightened and she drew closer to his side, smiling up at him with a little bemused chuckle. Mal wondered if it would help matters at all if he put his arm around her waist.

Then it was his turn to be jostled by the crowd. "Oh! Beg pardon, sir, I -." Mal tilted into Inara, whose free hand flew to grab at the front of his coat as she tried to keep her balance. He dropped his packages and planted his hand between her shoulder blades, pulling her close. She raised her eyes to his, and her eyebrows shot up to convey her surprise. Still smiling, though.

Mal nodded tolerantly at the older man. "No harm done." As long as she was alright, so was he. They continued through the crowd, slowly.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" That was Inara's voice. He turned to see her trying to gain some acreage at a table of girly-looking, colorful hats and mittens. She addressed a lanky young man, who for his part had given up trying not to stare.

"That's ok -" as she smiled at him the man ducked his head and pulled at the collar of his chunky green sweater. "Uh, Merry Christmas!"

"Mal?" Inara turned and addressed him. "River has a warm coat, but she needs accessories."

_Accessories? That means something other than...fellow criminals?_ "If you say so."

Inara held up a brightly colored hat and scarf set. "And look, there are also matching mittens."

"Ain't giving her anything purple."

"Not purple, Mal, lavender." She held up the scarf next to her face, smiling. "Lavender. Pretty, soft, and perfect for a teenager."

"Yeah, that'll do."

"These are your gifts. You could be a little more enthusiastic."

He was. Just not about the alleged lavender stuff.

He followed as she browsed, examining and dismissing various items. His eyes were only on her so he didn't miss her glances back to him. Her softly shy smiles, and he had to rein himself in not to answer every single one with a look that he knew said, plain as day, _you melt my heart. _He glanced around the store, trying to contain himself. She looked like a snow angel, dressed in her hooded cloak and with those adorable little fur-trimmed boots peeking out from beneath the full skirt. An angel who liked shopping. Liked shopping for his crew. Still, it was just shopping. It didn't have to mean that much. He didn't know what it meant. To her. To him? He was trying not to dwell on how much it might mean.

"How about this sweater for Simon?" She had moved to a new table.

"Next he'll be trying it on for me." She was still holding the sweater. Mal shook his head, to clarify his position on the giving of sweaters to Simon Tam. "No."

"But it's perfect for his coloring, and it's a good price for this material."

He gave her a look. "Got a manly reputation that I need to uphold. Maybe he'd like some jerky like I got Jayne."

Now it was Inara's turn to shake her head. She returned the sweater to its stack, thinking. "Does he like coffee?"

"He ought to start." Less frequent teas between Simon and Inara would suit Mal just fine.

Mal casually drifted over to another table, explaining that he had to get something for Zoe. That was a bald-faced lie; had already got something for Zoe a month ago. But not for Inara. Here it was Christmas Eve and he hadn't expected her to be here with him. Not in the store; not on his ship; not in his life.

He glanced back making sure she was occupied. The table he'd spied featured a variety of odds and ends favored by womenfolk. Scratching his head, he surveyed the trinkets trying to find something perfect for her.

"Make way, son!" He heard as he was elbowed aside by a small, chubby lady with impressive blue hair. She perused the wares in a swift business-like manner. As she browsed, she sang along with the piped in music. She looked him up and down over her glasses, acknowledging his puzzled look without surprise. "Don't know the words, huh?" The woman chuckled and went back to singing, periodically adding to the basket she carried.

Mal scanned the table with a sinking feeling. How could he possibly find the right gift? Something that she'd like - that she'd adore - something she didn't already have - something the men who still called after her hadn't bought her by the dozens - something that wasn't too damningly personal - something he could afford, and wouldn't have to steal. _That_ would be an uncomfortable conversation, after the Christmas morning bail-out...

"Shopping for that lovely lady of yours?" The lady asked, confident in her right as an elderly person to pry.

"No." His mother would be so proud at the twinge of guilt he felt at lying to an old lady. On Christmas.

She laughed. "Oh, yes you are. Trying to be so inconspicuous but you're failing, you know."

He looked around the shop trying to see if there were any other gift possibilities but this seemed to be the main territory for pretty things admired by women. Mal scanned the display again until he became aware of a persistent noise. Was the old lady jingling? She moved again and more sounds came from her direction. He looked more closely at her - the sound seemed to come directly from her extravagantly beaded, blinking sweater.

She caught his scrutiny. "Everytime a bell rings, an angel gets his wings, sonny." Her sweater twinkled all its tiny ornaments in unison, and the jingling sound repeated. "I'm just helping them along."

He nodded not knowing what she was talking about. Not interested in pursuing that vein of conversation. It was Christmas Eve, and Mal was running out of options. He looked at the woman again not about to scorn what might be his only hope, peculiar as she might be. "Uh, can you show me something a man might - if he were to -"

"Thought you weren't shopping for the lady?" She teased.

See, that's where fibbing to an old lady never paid off. "Well…" He fell back on his standard curtness. "It's your job, ain't it?"

"Oh, I don't work here, honey." She smiled, patting his arm. "Just got the spirit is all. Got all my shopping done by All Soul's." She lifted a basket of colorful, cello-wrapped gifts. "This is for next year."

"That's some formidable strategizing, ma'am."

"I have plans for next Christmas. People I love in my life. What about you?" She looked pointedly at Inara.

"Never think that far ahead."

"Well, you should..." She shrewd gaze turned from Inara to Mal. She took pity on him. "Let me help you."

"If a woman likes tea - what about this?" He asked holding up a black mini-tea set.

The woman gave him a look. "Man give that to me better be my grandson."

He started to reach for a small red box but heard the woman clear her throat loudly. He looked around the table at a loss for just the right thing.

"How about this?" She held up a shiny black garter belt trimmed in white lace.

"We…uh…I don't know," Mal stammered, discombobulated by the juxtaposition of racy underthings and a very old lady. "We haven't…we aren't…I ain't never…"

"So that's how it is." She smiled in perfect understanding. "Time to get a move on, my dear, time flies. Why, just yesterday, I was showing Harold my bloomers for the first time and now…" she paused for amused laughter, "Let's just say my bloomers is about the last thing he's interested in." She flapped the garter belt at him encouragingly. "This'll speed things up a bit. Your lady there seems interested. She's looking at you more than anything in this store."

Mal stared at a spot behind her blue curls, silently willing the old lady to put down the sex clothes.

She set the garters aside as something else caught her eye. "This is a pretty little thing." She turned the little box toward him. Inside was a little pin in the shape of a butterfly, its wings fashioned out of irregular green stones and rustic curlicues of bronze.

It was a pretty thing to be sure but… "Ain't fancy like she's accustomed to."

The woman shook her head, making the chubby baby reindeer dangling from each earring appear to canter wildly. "I've been watching that one. Her kind of fancy is _you_. No such thing as the wrong present from the right man, don't you know that?"

Mal ran a hand through his hair, his nervousness of the importance of the gift and its implications mounting. He could feel the old lady watching him.

"What are you afraid of, boy?" She gazed at him kindly, all trace of teasing gone. "It's just love."

"Just…" Why'd the old biddy have bring up that word. In relation to Inara. He could talk love of his ship, his crew but Inara…

" 'Just' is not the right word. Blame my old age but love…" Her smile widened and Mal could see the young woman she had once been. "Love with just the right person…when it works, it's magic." She looked him in the eye suddenly a picture of seriousness. "It'll sustain you through anything. If you have a chance, it's worth it."

He nodded, not knowing what to say to her.

"Quick, son! She's heading this way!" She exclaimed in an exaggerated whisper.

Mal felt a twinge of panic at his shortsightedness.

"Give me your coin. I'll buy it and give it to you after." She held out her hand. There was no way Mal could refuse the imperious order. He gave her the money and the box. "Well, isn't this a Christmas adventure!" She grinned at him and hurried away.

"Making new friends?"

"She's very…festive. The sweater…" They made their way to the cashier's line.

"Maybe that's what we should get for Zoe."

"That'd be a sight." He smiled at the thought of Zoe in the garish, blinking, jingling sweater. "So, coffee for the doc?"

"Coffee for Simon, lavender winter accessories for River, jerky for Jayne, fluffy socks for Kaylee, but Zoe…" Mal became transfixed as he watched her nibble her lip in concentration.

"Ain't a need to worry 'bout that. Already got her something."

She looked at him curiously wanting more of an explanation but it was their turn to pay.

"Holiday Festivities to you!" the clerk greeted with a tired smile. "Did you find everything you needed?"

"We did," Inara said, smiling prettily eliciting a more sincere smile from the clerk.

"Can we interest you in our special Santa delivery?"

"No, thank you. We'll pass."

The clerk rang up their purchases. The young man kept glancing furtively at Inara, fumbling over the keys of the register. In his haste, he tore the gift box intended for River's present. Mumbling an apology, he disappeared in the back room.

"You should take them up on the Yuletide Delivery," the next patron in line, a red-haired man holding a squirming toddler, advised Mal. "Santa comes to your house." He held up the child with a sticky face. "Kids love it!"

"Oh, we don't live here. We're just visiting." Mal glanced at Inara. She was examining sundry little trinkets for sale at the register, but something about her posture made him think she just might be listening to the response he chose to give the garrulous family man behind him.

"Staying at the Snow Holly Inn?"

Mal shook his head.

"Oh, you simply must. The wife and I stayed there one Christmas. Pricy," the man's eyebrows ascended as if to underscore his point, "but worth it. That was before kids, of course. Do you two have any yet?"

Mal felt Inara stiffen slightly - he was feeling a little discomfiture his own self - but the clerk returned at that moment with the box. He felt Inara's relief at being able to turn her attention to their transaction. Mal stole a bare glance at the little blush on her cheek, then turned back to the man behind them. "No, we…no." Mal couldn't help but wonder how she would have responded to the question, how she felt about the question.

"No hurry, Belen and I took a few years for ourselves before we had kids. It's nice to have that time to just be a couple." The man smiled warmly, showing odd teeth, enjoying the casual chatting with strangers. "Staying for the caroling? Should be starting soon."

"Thanks, but we've got a family party tonight." Mal's hand reached out to take one of the boxes Inara handed to him.

"Kung His Hsin Nien bing Chu Shen Tan!" Inara said to the man as they turned to leave.

"You two come back next Christmas!" The red-haired man called after them. "But call ahead and book the night at the Snow Holly Inn. It fills up early." The man shifted his baby to his opposite shoulder and leaned forward confidingly "Very romantic."

On their way out, Mal passed the woman who surreptitiously pressed the small the box in his hand. So furtive was the exchange, he wondered at her previous profession.

"Merry Christmas, children!" She called after them as they left the store.

He looked back at her; she winked and gave him a thumbs up sign. Turning back to Inara, he caught an amused expression on her face.

"Think there's a shop for sweets a few doors down." He moved closer to her, leaning down a bit as if to make sure she heard him from inside her hood. "Might could get us some candy canes or maple stars for the tree. Why don't you go fetch some while I check on our ride? Should be easy to find the place – just go against the current of sticky children."

Inara gave him the rest of her packages. "I'll meet you…?"

He pointed to the sleigh.

"How very Christmasy of you, Mal," she teased, squeezing his arm. He smiled down at her watching the steam of her breath in the cold night air.

"Don't tarry overly long. Man's got some kind of schedule to keep." But he didn't release her arm. Even through the layers of her clothing and his gloves, he was reluctant to relinquish the physical contact. Oh, he was in trouble.

She broke away, glancing back at him as she walked to the candy shop. Watching until she entered the store, he shook his head in disbelief. Real trouble but trouble of the interesting kind. He turned to the driver who was watching him with interest.

The driver croaked a command by way of greeting. "Get ye the cocoa first, and peppermint for your lady. I'll not leave ye." A few springing white hairs stuck out past the brim of the man's pointed brown hood. He raised prodigious eyebrows at all the packages Mal carried. "You're after puttin' me out of business, boyo? Leave your burdens behind." The man gestured a scrawny hand at the backward-facing first bench of the sleigh. "They'll be safe."

Thinking it unlikely that the geezer coveted River's lavender mittens, Mal nodded as he moved toward the open door of the vehicle.

"Be quick about the cocoa, she'll be coming along."

"You been watching us?"

"Ayuh. Pleasant enough way to pass the time."

Mal was becoming irritated at the nosy old people gaining amusement from his…from their…whatever this thing that was escalating between them could be called. Dropping off the packages, he made his way to the cocoa stand. He couldn't help but wonder where all this would go. Things between them were changing, more so in the last several hours than in the months since Miranda.

He looked back at the sleigh. It looked… romantic. The kind of trip a fella'd only take if he wanted a long stretch of time alone with a lady, got to be a quaint gesture, compared to what any other suitor might have planned in hopes of pleasing and impressing her. He almost stumbled with panic. Am I a suitor?! Had he lost his mind? Could he be more obvious?

Ok, he told himself as he waited in line for the cocoa, play it cool. No, play dumb about the romantical qualities of the sleigh. She'll believe that. She won't! The woman is not unfamiliar with the suitorlike ways of men. If the question is posed in whatever manner she sees fit, the plan is admit nothing. She ain't a reader. Can't make me admit to anything. _Oh, yes, she could. _Unless she likes how romantical the sleigh is. In that case, a little admitting might be in order.


	2. Chapter 2

They sat in the farthest seat for a while, having been directed there by the ancient little man Mal had hired to take them home. He had an apparently complicated seating plan that Inara watched him refer to several times, although the light was so dim she couldn't imagine him making out the writing. Still, he greeted the sparse number of passengers with explicit directions on where each was to ride in the carriage. Others sought out the old driver as well, but not for a ride. Instead, they handed over bulky packages and bags, with slips of paper presumably serving as delivery instructions. Each time, the man ran his thumb over the paper, then stashed it carelessly in his pocket as he hopped up into different benches, stowing his cargo with faithful attention to his plan.

Inara turned to Mal in amusement. "Why does this not surprise me?"

"Care to expound on whatever you find so entertaining?"

She lowered her voice to a teasing whisper and leaned closer. "Of all the ways to get us home, you see fit to pick the most...leisurely conveyance possible. What grudge do you have against the transpo shuttle? We'd be at Serenity in 15 minutes!"

"Transpo's left. _You _were shopping."

"_We_ were shopping," she admonished lightly, accepting the thermos Mal offered. "But this is nice. Christmasy and...well, this could be quite the romantic gesture for a gentleman looking for something of the sort." Romantic, even with the eccentric little driver packing half the sleigh with cargo.

"That's me, persistently endeavoring for gentlemanhood."

Inara wrapped her hands around the warm container. He'd thought of everything, she realized. She was impressed.

"I - this was a nice idea, the cocoa. I wonder if it's a local specialty?" Inara winced inwardly as she heard the question she'd just asked. A romantic sleigh ride with the man she'd been in love with for more than a year, and she was speculating on the local cocoa culture?

"Could be, folks in cold climates generally are partial to...cocoa. Because it's hot."

"That's true."

"Watch out it's not too hot, though. Sometimes at first..." Mal trailed off with a vague gesture at her thermos.

"I like it hot." Precious Buddha! She really ought to throw herself under the runners of the sleigh! Anything to save herself from another remark like_ I like it hot_!

She saw Mal blink at this, and blessed him for his charity in not pressing her on her statement. "I - that tea you like so well."

Inara rushed to agree. "Yes, the tea. That I...like."

Inara found herself able to do nothing other than stare at Mal, praying desperately for some end to the excruciating hot beverage conversation. He looked as uncomfortable as she felt.

Finally, Mal shrugged over his cocoa. "Anyway, ain't every day we get a chance to - " but the rest of his explanation was lost as the driver scrambled into their bench, carrying a bag that dwarfed him. This he plunked onto the seat next to Inara without a word. He was back in a moment with two more bags, each nearly as large as the first.

He looked at Inara and waved a thick black mitten. "Scoot yer bottom over, dolly girl, we got more cargo comin'."

Behind her she heard Mal attempt, unsuccessfully, to stifle a laugh at the direction. The driver was waiting, smiling at her with a look of affectionate patience, and his smile grew wider as she complied. Inara slid closer to Mal and the driver nodded his thanks, then deposited the large bag where she had been sitting. He was nearly impossible to see on the other side of the bag, but she could hear him puttering around, arranging the cargo and, from the sound of it, adding more bags.

His voice called out "Take care now!" and the closest bag lurched soundly against Inara's side, coming to rest partially on her lap. She turned to Mal, who was still chuckling, and raised a challenging brow. He patted the small space between them.

"Seems like more scootin's in order." His eyes were twinkling with mirth. "_Dolly girl_."

Inara slid clear of the bag, although it left not an inch of space between her and Mal. Her whisper was playfully aggrieved. "Wherever did you meet this man? He's 150 years old if he's a day!"

"Called me _boyo_." Mal admitted with a nod. He shifted his position slightly as if to offer her more room, a thoughtful but pointless gesture - as snugly as they were wedged between the stack of canvas bags and the padded inner shell of the sleigh, there was nowhere for either of them to go.

Inara could tell from Mal's suddenly more guarded expression that the situation was registering with him, just as it was with her. Needing something to do, she reopened her thermos and peered into her cocoa. "Is your cocoa good? Mine is very...good. I like the peppermint. It's..." _Say __**good**__ again, she mocked herself privately._ "It's..thank you," she finished, chancing a look at Mal.

"Mine is good, too, and...warm. He...the driver...well, he recommended I fetch us some. To keep us warm. You like the peppermint? I didn't get peppermint. In this." He held up his thermos.

"You don't like peppermint?"

"Like it very well, but I thought if you didn't, then you could take this one, so you didn't have to - but you like the peppermint, so....good."  
"I do." A snowflake, voluptuous in its slow tumble through the air, landed on Inara's sleeve. They both watched as it slowly melted, twinkling, into the deep green wool. "It's snowing?" Inara asked, although the question was patently unnecessary. The air around them was suddenly filled with fat, drifting feathers of snow.

Mal grinned. "Right on schedule."

"What else have you got planned?"

"Well..." he looked out over the snowy terrain. "We got the tree tonight. Girls'll like the pretty. There's the mandatory cookies and tea. And in the morning..."

"Tuck in, laddie!" The driver's voice sounded out from below them, on Mal's side of the sleigh. He looked up just in time to catch what the man had tossed to him - a folded blanket. It was worn-looking but thick, Inara noticed as Mal passed her his cocoa so he could open the blanket.

"Here, this should..." It was absurd, Inara told herself, what her heart was doing. She watched Mal's hands as he tucked the blanket carefully across her lap, over her coat. It was hardly an...intimate gesture, as such things went. For all that, despite all that...she looked up into the falling snow and let herself admit it. All evening, she had been giddy just to be with him. The growing excitement, the secret happy thrill flashing through her as she watched him and realized he was planning _something_, manuevering their circumstances in order to spend more time in town. Together. Alone.

The blanket was surprisingly warm, and the air was still. Inara lowered her hood and twisted on the bench. "Are you warm enough?"

"I'm fine." Mal looked up toward the front of the sleigh. "Think we're getting underway." As he was speaking, the sleigh lurched gently with a shaking of the horses' bells, then began gliding sedately forward.

"It might snow all night."

"Supposed to, off and on, according to -" Mal pulled on his blue scarf, which he'd knotted carelessly around his neck. "That's the report."

"Have Zoe and Jayne got the tree? Were they back when you waved?" _**Nao**__! He just told you about the tree! This is not the first man with whom you have ever conversed!  
_  
Mal did not seem to notice the slip. "They did, and they were."

"And I trust that Zoe kept Jayne from blowing up a sizeable area of the forest?" Jayne had ventured out nearly clanking with deadly weapons for the tree-finding mission.

Mal nodded. "Ruined his Christmas fun."

"It will be fun. Tonight, at home. And tomorrow. It's a good plan, Mal."

"Ah, there's a rare utterance." He grinned, closed his thermos and stowed it in a small cubby in the side of the sleigh. After a few minutes the vehicle slowed down, and a few passengers disembarked. Their driver followed them into a narrow alley between two houses, dragging a gray canvas bag. He disappeared for a few moments then reemerged, marching quickly through the snow and folding something into one of his many coat pockets.

The snow was falling more thickly now. Inara brushed a shining constellation from the blanket on her lap, a few more from the shoulders of Mal's coat. His cheeks, his ears were faintly pink.

"Are you sure you're not cold? This blanket is big enough for the both of us, and I'm more than warm." Inara moved to unfold one of the layers on her lap.

"I'm fine."

Something in his tone aroused a half-irritated affection within her. This is what he did, out of either stubbornness or what Inara suspected was long habit borne of necessity - he simply refused to acknowledge the discomforts or inconveniences that most would try to avoid. "Yes, Mal, you're very tough, but you don't have to freeze." On impulse, she drew off her gloves, leaned forward as she reached, and rested her warm palms and fingers gently over his ears. They _were_ cold. Inara felt the tickle, against her fingertips, of the hair at his collar. It was cold and soft, just as she remembered from one panicked secret moment in his bunk long ago. She moved her fingers, just once and very slightly, to touch again as her eyes lifted and she realized just how close their faces were. She found she wasn't breathing.

His eyes were dark as he took in her face, then let his gaze drift over her hair. "Got snowflakes in your curls." His voice was scarcely more than a whisper, and he raised one bare hand as if to brush the snow away. "And you're so warm..." he touched one snowflake clinging to a wave just above her cheek, then let his hand fall. "A fine endorsement for that blanket. Guess I will share, if you're sure you won't be -"

"I'm sure." She busied her hands with the blanket and stretched it over both of them. "But please let me fix your scarf."

"What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, if you want it attacking you rather than keeping the cold out to any appreciable degree."

He snorted, but allowed her to adjust the scarf around his neck and tuck it into his collar. She knew he was watching her as she did it. There were so many things she could do, Inara knew with a lifetime of training that it was so; to draw this out, make him watch her, communicate invitation with her expression, her eyes, her voice, her touch. None of it, not one thing, seemed equal to what might be growing between them. There had been occasions, more than a few these last difficult months, when she was certain he was about to say...something. Times when she'd determined, against all inclination, to give voice to her own heart's truth. Chance, circumstance, timing, the grievous needs of the family they both cherished and had fought so hard to keep. Nothing had happened yet. She wouldn't fault him, not when she remembered what she'd done to him, to both of them, the last time he'd tried. If tonight were a start, she resolved, it wouldn't be because of a technique she'd learned in school. Inara smoothed the curve of the scarf where it lay over his throat and, slowly, let her hands leave him.

"It's so quiet." They had left the town behind them and were travelling past a stand of woods between two farms. Aside from the continuing, faint chirping of the harness bells, and a very occasional word from the driver, there was no sound at all. After a few minutes, they left the farms behind as the road stretched out beside a frozen lake ringed with trees and dotted here and there with lanterns. On the lake's far shore, there was a cluster of bright lights around a large building. The inn, she supposed.

"Are you sleepy at all?" He looked anxious. "You could - if you were, and you wanted -" Mal shrugged one shoulder awkwardly, then looked away, hunting for the thermoses in the sleigh's cubby. "Or, you want some cocoa?" He jiggled her thermos in a quick circle, judging the contents within. "You got some cocoa here yet..." he put the thermos back.

"I'm not sleepy." It was a bit of a relief, to hear such a silly question, Inara thought. She must appear to be more at ease - much more at ease - than she actually was. "I don't find Christmas shopping that exhausting."

"I do." Mal shook his head in bemusement. "Anyhow, to have you with me - helping with the presents - I'd be in desperate straits venturing into that terrain alone. So thank you."

"It was my pleasure."

"Stores were busy." He seemed to remember something. "Did you find some sweets for the tree?"

"I did. Candy canes and maple stars, as you requested." Inara smiled to cover her frustration. She could converse articulately in several languages on any number of topics. She had made a career of seemingly effortless conversation, putting everyone around her at ease, and so far, tonight, she'd barely managed more than _good cocoa_. What was it about this night, this _man_ that made her so...

The faint, high-pitched sound of a rising wind interrupted her thoughts. She glanced up at Mal - the sky behind him was thick with whirling white, flakes batting manically down through the sky. The sleigh stopped and Inara heard crunching footsteps and low voices around and below them. Looking out, she could see lights and the blurry outlines of a few buildings through the snowy air. A farm, she surmised as she watched the driver deliver a package to the side door of a large, comfortable-looking house.

On his way back, the driver stopped directly below their bench. "How ye be?"

"Can't complain," Mal called back with a glance at Inara. "This wind supposed to pick up more?"

"Blowin' the storm away down the coast, we'll have starlight 'fore long. There's another blanket 'neath the seat." The sound of his footsteps told them he had returned to his own perch behind the horses.

Mal slid back the door to the compartment under their bench. "So there is," he remarked, pulling forth a brightly-colored patchwork quilt. He spread it out over both of them.  
"Must admit I'm curious." Mal tilted his head at her questioningly. "Do you ever wear trousers?"

His expression was so honestly inquisitive, she smiled. "I won't be sledding in skirts tomorrow, if that's what you're wondering."

"Probably for the best."

The wind rose again, louder this time, blowing her hair around and sending a chill through Inara despite her cloak and blankets. Close as he was, Mal noticed and frowned at it.

"Some holiday it'll be with you laid up with the ague. Scoot in."

"There's nowhere for me to scoot to."

"Sure there is." He opened his coat and extended the side that was closest to her, nudging her shoulder with the fingers of his outstretched hand as he watched her. "Scoot."

She moved inside his coat, nearly sighing out loud in pleasure at the warmth of him, so near. Her left arm went around his back and she rested her hand, after a moment's thought, on his belt. He pulled the coat around her and tucked it against her right arm, drawing the blankets up to keep out the wind. She put her cheek against the front of his shoulder while he moved her right hand under the left panel of his coat. He lay his forearm along hers with his hand cradling around her right elbow.

"That's better." He'd whispered it in her ear. That's all she found she could think about for the next few quiet minutes. The softness in his voice, how his breath had barely moved her hair. How he was...holding her. She knew he wasn't emotionally cold, she'd seen him press an affectionate kiss to the top of Kaylee's head. Take River's hands, anchoring her with kindness, strength, and the generosity of his trust. Sit shoulder to shoulder with Zoe, their sorrowful faces strange mirrors to each other, silence broken only occasionally by murmurs the other never had to have repeated. Eventually, Mal would extend an arm and Zoe would move in, her eyes closed against the unimaginable pain of the moment. Mal would say something, something Zoe would acknowledge with a tiny nod.

But she and Mal had barely touched at all. It had become more and more natural over the last few months, how they sought each other out for company - not _Companionship_, Inara thought wryly - but there was a carefully maintained physical distance between them.

The hand cupping her elbow was moving. He was moving his fingers back and forth across the back of her upper arm, pressing lightly against the long sleeve of her dress. She liked it. She made herself relax a bit more, rubbed her cheek softly against the sweater covering his shoulder. He felt, to Inara, absolutely wonderful. She closed her eyes against the swell of emotion, of gratitude for this moment.

"It's been a beautiful day." Her voice was soft. She hoped he'd know what she meant.

"That it has."

"I never thought, the first day I met you, that you'd ever bring me peppermint cocoa." That you'd be the one keeping out the cold, and I'd want, more than anything, to do the same for you.

A pleasure she knew would be addictive, being this close, able to _feel_ him laugh. "I didn't imagine you'd be helping me with Christmas errands. Thought my best course of action would be to run you off the ship and get another tenant first chance." His fingers moved over her shoulder, caressing.

"You nearly did." She felt her own arms tighten around him at the memory of their early hostilities.

Mal was quiet for a moment. Remembering how they'd faced off against each other. "Just weren't acquainted with my brand of charm, is all."

She nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder again, so happy. "What brand would that be?"

Mal answered with a hug that nestled her closer. Inara let the hand at his waist move up his side and across his back, back and forth, back and forth again. She just barely heard the low sound from his throat. Heady, this closeness to him.

The sleigh stopped a few quiet minutes later and the last of the other passengers hurried up a dark lane between two tall rows of stooping bare trees. The first band of snow clouds had cleared away entirely, leaving the sky blazing with moonlight. The driver called back to them. "Back around to town now to fetch down this satchel, then Ives Docks for ye."

She felt Mal's arms tighten around her again, felt his hands move and his fingers spread out as if to claim as much of her as possible.

"Not dying was the best I'd hoped for." His voice had taken on a sudden hoarseness. One hand was stroking her hair now, as his eyes searched her face. He was done with their gentle teasing, she could tell. Truthsome, he'd once said. The memory still pained her.

"This is better than I'd hoped." Her hopes for her family. Her hopes for them as well. He deserved whatever courage she could muster, so she did not look away. Instead kept her eyes on his face, let him see hers and everything it might have to show. Truthsome.

"You...hoped?" The soft whisper of his voice touched her heart. Why had it been so important not to let him know?

"I hoped."

"We're alive." His face, the face she knew so well, was illuminated by emotion no less than the sky above. One arm around her shoulders, still keeping her inside his coat and warm. The other hand, caressing her hair, her shoulder, sliding to her neck and cradling her face, his thumb brushing along her jaw. "We're together. And I -" his voice roughened as he drew closer. "I - " his second attempt whispered against her lips as he kissed her.

Mal didn't expect loving Inara was the safe choice to make, but he'd had that decided for him long ago. He never expected that she would be here, against all probability snuggled right up against him and looking content to snuggle some more. The little coy barb about how they'd irritated each other so, almost from hello. Safe. But maybe they'd been safe long enough.

So when he heard what he'd heard in her voice, when he saw his chance in her eyes, he'd asked. And she'd answered. And her eyes were shining up at him, her face alive with such beauty and hope. One sweet hand, slipping over his heart and the scarf she'd needed to fuss over, resting against his neck, letting her fingers caress his skin while the truth spilled over both of them like moonlight.

The truth was in their eyes. In the way their faces drew closer, never breaking eye contact. The steam of their breath in the cold night air, mingling, becoming one. He saw her searching his eyes, trying to smile for a single tiny moment, then back to this new expression he never really believed he'd see. Was this real? Was this him? Him, and not a moment from the life of some other man, a lucky man, happy and whole? This is what happy people do, he realized. People with hope. He guessed he'd been acting on some species of hope, wrangling this evening's time alone with Inara. But that's as far as his hopes had gone. Time with her. At least that was the only imagining he'd been prepared to entertain. Holding her? Kissing her?

Seemed like there'd been times, the last month or two, when something seemed to want to happen. A break in conversation, a sweet smile and warm eyes instead of the easy joke. That had felt...good, if foreign...And afterwards there were times he'd thought about the smile and the warm eyes and wondered if he hadn't ought to have pursued his good fortune in some way. He hadn't. There was always something else to see to, or some habitual deflection to fall back on.

But here she was, so close and so warm and telling him that she'd _hoped_. He'd been carrying on so long, only trying not to make things worse, instead of working to make anything in his life better. Maybe it was time to try for better.

He couldn't resist the invitation in her eyes. Couldn't find his old stand-bys for keeping her at a distance. This, he forced himself to admit, is what he had wanted for so long. _Can't turn back now. Didn't want to, couldn't even if ----  
_  
"We're alive..." Hadn't thought that would be the case, back on that moon after Wash...

"We're together," But he was, she was, and damned if he didn't know how gorramn short life could be.

And I..." his voice roughened, she was looking at him with a shining thing he didn't want to put a name to in case he was wrong.

"I...", He couldn't speak anymore, couldn't say the words, but wasn't that their problem, too many words?

More of a prayer than a kiss. Soft lips, lingering, just barely pressed against each other. Mal raised his eyes, meaning to find Inara's and see what might be in them. He couldn't, not at that moment. She hadn't yet opened her eyes, so he watched, while she did, slowly. As if waking from a dream. Wondering. He'd watched daybreak, spaceborne over a dozen worlds, but nothing compared to the emotion in her eyes as they opened to him. He felt the rise and fall of her breathing as she lifted her face to meet his lips again. So gentle, amazed, looking after the kiss, eyes and hearts striving to encompass this new thing. Was it the look on his face that had her smiling like she was, tremulous, joyful? He found himself kissing her again, suddenly aware of his hands on her and that they were pulling her close to him. Her hands, on his shoulders, one hand now moving to tangle in his hair, and she was kissing him. Kissing him. He heard a little shaky delighted sound against his mouth and she kissed him again.

He kept on pulling until he couldn't get her closer than she was. Halfway across his lap, pressed against his chest, kissing him, letting him hold her up with the arm he had wrapped around her, the hand at the nape of her neck. She tasted like chocolate and peppermint. He'd love it forever.

She stopped a moment, braced her hands against his shoulders to lean back a few terrible inches, catch her breath and look him over. Pink cheeks. Lips, a darker pink. Shining eyes. Looked like a woman planning on saying something, until she smiled and sighed a tiny little sound and came back to him for more kissing instead.

He was kissing Inara. She was kissing him. He was drunk over it and who knows how much time passed before the sleigh stopped again and the driver scrabbled onto the other side of their seat and started tugging at the enormous bag. Inara let up moving her hands across his back and shoulders, over his face and neck and chest and arms, let up kissing him and gave him a little smile as she smoothed her hair down with her hands.

Mal pushed at the bag a little bit, calling out to the old man. "Need some help?"

The answer came in an amused wheeze. "You stay put. Won't be but a moment."

The sleigh was soon moving again and it was only a few short dazzling minutes until they were at Ives Docks and they had to stop kissing and get down from the sleigh. Wasn't anything improper in reaching up for her, though, holding her by the waist to help her disembark. Keeping his hands there a few moments to make sure she was steady in the snow. Had to stand close to her, to get all that accomplished.

Mal reluctantly let go to accept the packages from the little driver. They called their good-byes and the sleigh glided off into the dark, harness bells shaking rhythmically.

He switched the packages into his left hand so he could keep his arm around her, hand firm on her shoulder as they walked. The snow had been overturned here around the docks, melted and refrozen in uneven piles, and walking could quite possibly turn out to be hazardous. Better to hold on to her, let her snuggle close with her arm under his open coat, around his waist.

"Just a moment." He stopped and stood facing her, looking down at her as she beamed up at him. Her hands were patting at the pockets of her cloak. "I should get my gloves." She was taking her time, he could tell. Fine with him, he got to stand there and look at her. He wanted so much to kiss her, just one more kiss. Crazy lie. No way one more kiss would be enough.

She drew on one glove. "You kissed me." Her voice like she had a secret she was very pleased to tell.

"Sure did, darlin'." He glanced at the ship, then grinned at her as she retrieved her other glove. "Aim to get right back to that first chance I find."

She responded with a pleased hum, smiling as she pulled on her glove and leaned into him again, wrapping her arm around his waist. They resumed walking, slowly, toward the ship.

"Hands warm now?" He angled down to her as he said it, breathing her in.

"Quite."

A lower voice. "You taste like candy peppermint."

She stopped again, moved to stand in front of him. They were only a few yards from the ship. Mal could hear, faintly, the voices of his crew. Playing in the snow, he realized. Inara reached for his scarf, busied her two hands with adjusting it around his neck and over his throat. How much adjusting it needed, Mal couldn't say - he was pretty sure she'd just fixed it. But he wasn't about to object.

"And you like peppermint."

"Can't tell you how much."

"I was worried for a moment. That you didn't like peppermint." This scarf, the scarf he'd take off after the 15 second walk to the boat, evidently still needed much fixing. Which was fine with Mal.

"Why's that?"

One beautifully curved eyebrow danced as her smile grew and she confessed.

"Because I wanted you to kiss me."


	3. Chapter 3

"Because I wanted you to kiss me." The words hung in the cold air. Inara gazed at Mal, clear eyed, allowing her eyes to show more of her than she had ever shown another person. Everything was different. She couldn't keep herself from touching him so she contented herself with rearranging his scarf, wanting to prolong their physical contact in whatever manner available.

"You did, did you?" Mal's head dipped down closer to hers. His voice was soft, intimate. Devastatingly sexy. Oh, Gods, the man could kiss. She was dizzy from it, dizzy and overheated even out here in the snow, and she desperately wanted another. She tried to remember that Serenity was close, the crew even closer, but she was irresistibly drawn to him.

"I did." Watching him smile, this new smile over their secret, wasn't something she was getting tired of anytime soon. She would tarry over the scarf, she decided. She needed an excuse to linger, didn't want to leave the cold winter night for the comfort of Serenity. It was some consolation to her that he seemed just as reluctant to move as her but the sounds of the crew grew closer.

She shrugged, smiling at him. She patted the front of his scarf. "Shall we?"

It hit her, cold and merciless, forcing her eyes closed with the shock. The sting traveled harshly down her neck, across her scalp and into her ear. Inara gasped, heard Mal's roar of outrage. And another voice, familiar even through the snow that had filled her ear.

"Oh, God, Inara! I'm so sorry!" Simon had sprinted up to her, following the trajectory of his fatally misthrown snowball.

She nodded, scooping wet snow out of her collar. Mal stepped closer, wrapping his arm around her protectively as he brushed snow out of her hair. She opened her eyes and looked at Simon in time to see his expression blanch. Not in response to her, though. He was looking at Mal.

"I didn't mean..."

"What did you mean, genius?"

Inara thought she had better speak up. "You didn't do any harm..."

Simon approached a few halting steps then stopped, glancing nervously from Inara to Mal. "Honestly, I intended to hit _you_."

"Me?" Mal was growling. "You got a funny sense of self-preservation, boyo."

"It's just that…the two of you were standing so close together."

"The snow is treacherous," Mal explained, still clearing remnants of the snowball from her hair and collar. "Even more so than is readily apparent." He looked around. "Party's moved outside?"

"Just the early festivities." A bundled-up Zoe stepped out of the dark behind Simon. Mal's fingers went still against Inara's neck, then dropped away altogether.

Inara moved back, the cold reality of their lives stinging far more than the snowball. She chanced a look back at Mal. He was looking at Zoe. His expression unreadable but she knew. Knew he couldn't pursue more with her while his best friend was grieving. She hardly felt Kaylee and River looping their arms through hers, pulling her to Serenity.

* * * *

First thing back in the cargo bay, Inara and Kaylee had conferenced and decided the Christmas tree needed to be moved to the dining room. That was fun, of a sort. Mal liked getting to watch her while she bit her bottom lip and made up her mind where he and Jayne ought to tote the tree next. She wouldn't meet his gaze, instead looking everywhere but in his direction. The tree was finally placed in the dining room and she swept out of the room with the explanation that she needed to label the presents. Could have took them up to her, a perfect excuse, if a stammering and apologetic Simon hadn't already gotten that accomplished.

He wanted to go to her immediately, follow her right up those stairs and get himself another taste of her, hear many, many more of those captivating little sounds she had made while they were out in the snow, carrying on like teenagers behind a haystack. But Zoe…

"Captain, may I be in charge of the party?" River asked, bounding up to him. "Kaylee said it's okay."

"Well, if Kaylee says it's alright, then in charge you are."

"God help us," Jayne mumbled.

"No! Everything's shiny!" Kaylee admonished, giving River an encouraging hug. "We got us real party food! Dip, crackers, bananas, and lots of sweets!"

"Sweet." Jayne nodded before a mischievous grin appeared. "Watch out, everyone!" Jayne called out drawing attention to Simon. "He may be armed!" He was the only one who laughed at his own joke.

Zoe came and stood next to him, watching Kaylee and River attend to tiny but apparently crucial details of the Christmas tree. "I see you've accomplished your mission, sir. Looks like Inara has too."

"Yeah," he responded, deliberating misunderstanding her. "Got...stuff for everybody." His hand went to the scarf still around his neck.

"Stuff? That stuff involve kissing? Cause I 'spect Jayne won't be pleased with his…stuff." She had him, dead to rights. And he knew Zoe loved to tease. It would serve him right for her to give him a ration of it over this, and enjoy herself while she served it out.

"Inara's a lucky woman." The amused tone he knew. Her face would still be composed, he didn't even need to look. Didn't want to look. "Having a man like you to defend her from...Simon." At that, Zoe gave up her poker face and laughed.

Mal nodded miserably. She wasn't going to make it easy for him, and there was nothing else to do. "He's more dangerous than he looks, that boy." This made Zoe laugh harder.

"Sir, I mean it." Zoe's tone became serious and she turned for the first time and looked him in the eye. "She's one lucky woman."

"Zoe…I don't know why...or how..." Inarticulate, but he was talking to Zoe. Zoe, who knew better than anyone how bad it had been for him. She'd kept him upright, kept him living like some kind of human being. Time had passed, and he got along better most days, these days, but he'd thought his chance at anything with a woman was as dead as the blackest rock in space. He thought that part of his heart was gone. Then, when he realized it was not, he thought he had nothing to offer her. Still wasn't too sure on that last part.

Mal realized Zoe was observing him closely. Her gaze narrowed in a chastising look reserved just for him. "Don't go finding reasons not to."

"Just probably not the right time. With…everything…"

"Cap'n," she sighed, keeping her gaze fixed on him. "This grief's gonna be here no matter what you do. Your being wretched won't spare me a moment of it."

He nodded, not as miserably. "Must say, you're better at this than I was for you." He remembered her early days; tough Zoe, head over heels with his goofy pilot. He remembered the teasing, the scorn, the bitterness, the unvarnished pessimism, the...fear.

Her wistful smile turned amused. "I always was the superior being, sir."

"Can't argue with that."

"Besides," Zoe continued, with a sly smile." I won't have you depriving me."

"Depriving you?"

"I plan to be the one snickering, next time you yell at Inara she ain't never telling you what to _do_ on your ship."

"Snickering, is it?"

"Lots." Zoe looked at him, completely serious. "So, don't you have something to do?"

"I do? I mean, yeah…" His voice rose as he addressed the rest of the crew. "I just got…stuff to see to. Carry on."

He tried to keep the enthusiasm from his step as he went down the stairs through the common area. No need for anyone to guess at where he was really going.

* * * *

Inara looked at every gown in her sparse wardrobe, looked and looked again. Completely ineffectual, she was perfectly well acquainted with the few dresses she'd picked up in the months since she'd returned. She shouldn't be wasting time like this, but concentration eluded her. Inara found herself removing the dresses from her closet and draping them across the narrow cot she'd been using for a bed.  
There were sounds on the stairs outside. She pushed at her wet hair with the towel Simon had fetched for her as soon as she'd entered the cargo bay. The first towel. The second towel, the one he worried she might need and had delivered along with the presents, still lay on the table. It had actually been fortuitous, the misthrown snowball. If she were less than perfectly composed, no one wondered why.

She picked up her favorite dress and turned it in front of her, considering. A dark garnet silk, wide bands of intricate black lace spanning the waist and crossing the bodice. The same black lace formed the straps of the gown, plunging to a low vee in the back. She considered the short, matching bolero jacket - it would be perfect for the party.

That kiss. Inara indulged herself with the memory. All those kisses. Those wonderfully sweet, simple, alarmingly sexy kisses. In a public place! With people and horses and snow! She'd never done anything so indiscreet in her entire life. And she'd do it again in a heartbeat, and be glad of the chance. The way he kissed her..._Ai ya_! What else might the man be capable of?

She heard a knock and took a moment to calm herself. Simon would have had just enough time to find yet another towel and make the return trip to her shuttle to offer it with another apology.

"Please come in." She turned, a calm and unruffled smile on her face. Where it stayed for the briefest moment, until she saw Mal and not Simon cross her threshold.

"How are things coming along?" Mal was using his all-purpose Captain's voice, and Inara saw him glance over his shoulder before settling his gaze on her. As he approached, his eyes never left hers.

Inara tried to make her voice tranquil. "I'm almost finished." That wasn't true at all – she had done nothing except wander around and stare since returning to her shuttle. She moved toward him, closing more of the distance between them. They came to a stop facing each other, watching each other's faces closely. Any fears she had regarding Mal's reticence evaporated as she saw the look in his eyes.

Mal nodded at the presents, noticeably bare of elegantly scripted name tags. "About…" His eyes moved from the gifts to the dresses she'd laid out on her cot, then back to her.

Inara pushed at the locks of damp hair behind her still-cold ear. "Yes, about that, I just had to…" A small voice inside her piped up. _You would have made much of this man's attempt to supervise your calligraphy. _

His eyes traveled from her eyes to her lips, to the ear. Back to her eyes. "No worries of snowballs here."

Cold skin. Warm mouth. She let herself imagine, let her expression give her away. "No." She leaned toward him as his fingers gently brushed her earlobe.

"Wondered if…" he glanced over his shoulder again, then back to her. He took another step closer until they were just inches apart. He waited, so close, while his eyes searched hers for an invitation. Finding it, he hummed a soft sound as he smiled and came closer.

Appallingly, devilishly sexy, even the first kiss. Trouble, a voice from some remote area of her consciousness noted. Still bedazzlingly sweet, but the response she felt awakening within her was decidedly...immoderate. As she kissed him, her thoughts strayed to other possibilities, questions and curiosities...fantasies she'd tried not to indulge these long months alone.

Was he thinking what she hoped he was thinking? The kisses between them were changing, growing more intensely passionate as they held each other, pressed close and getting closer. Did he intend more than stolen kisses?

Everything she knew, everything she could feel told her he wanted her. That he was as ready, physically, as she was. His intent? She'd made a career of understanding what a man needed, what his next move was likely to be, but at this moment Inara had to admit she honestly didn't know. This was Mal. Not a predictable man under ordinary circumstances. And her own growing desire was making it a struggle for her to stay in the moment and simply allow events to unfold.

His mouth had traveled from hers across her cheek to the chilled spot on her earlobe, the one she'd pointed out to him in response to his solicitous inquiry. From her ear, he'd gently tilted her head back and trailed a line of kisses down her neck and across her exposed throat. She heard a growl from him as the line of kisses met the high neck of her warmest winter dress. Mal chuckled. "Nice frock, 'Nara. This your thwartin' frock?"

She couldn't help but giggle at the pure silliness of the question.

"I recall you in this wine-colored dress, all bare up here," he trailed fingers across her well-clothed collarbone. "'Bout near gave me a heart attack that day, I couldn't imagine what was holding that gown up. Well, yes I could imagine..." he leered at her. "You might have worn that shopping."

They both knew her dresses were at the Training House, but she didn't want to spoil the mood. "It would have made for a very chilly outing." More kisses.

He smiled against her lips. "I warmed up this little bit," he reminded her, tickling the earlobe he'd been kissing. "Think I'm ready to be trusted with bigger responsibilities."

It certainly wasn't cold in the shuttle now. Inara slid one hand under his sweater, craving the feel of his bare skin. A shirt. Grievously well tucked-in. And beneath it, her hands discerned...another shirt and felt like growling herself. Was the man wearing every shirt he owned? She felt his hands move across her shoulders and down her arms, and felt restlessness fire within her. She wanted his hands on her bare skin.

What's happening here? She'd never expected this day to end this way. If she had, would she have agreed to the innocent shopping trip? Of course she would. Isn't this what she'd fantasized about for more than a year? She leaned back abruptly, wanting him to look at her. Fear intruded on her desire. Fear for actually getting something she wanted. Fear of what's next? Did he know exactly what she was offering him? More than her body, so much more.

Mal met her gaze, responding to her fear with his own. She felt him tense, saw him struggle with his own worries. Be strong, she prayed, don't let me change our minds.

He grinned at her slightly, devastatingly, and for a moment she was petrified that he was going to say something mean to push her away. Part of her wanted that, wanted the safety of their hostilities, wanted the familiar and easily-navigated distance between them. But the woman who saw friends die, fought Reavers for the chance of righting a terrible wrong, desperately needed him to be strong.

He didn't disappoint. His grin became a tender and serious expression, his hands curled around her neck, his thumb rubbing her skin from her ear to her cheek.

"Can't think of a reason not to see where this can go." Inara could think of a thousand but his voice was soft, seducing her. His words shattered the last of her reservations.

She nodded, at a complete loss for words. His lips still inches from hers, waiting for her. Inara didn't waste any more time. Her hands went to his face, pulling him to her. She kissed him, infusing all her tangled emotions for this man in her kiss. She heard herself moan softly as their tongues met, and heard his answer - a low rumble in his throat as he pulled her even closer.

"The door is open…" She gasped, pleased she remembered that all-important detail.

"Only thing keeping me sane, darlin'." He whispered against her neck before claiming her lips again in a fiery kiss. A kiss that made part of her demand that she close the door, lock the door, and set about defeating all these maddening layers. A single, shattering vision....pressed between the locked door and his body, his mouth at her throat, her hands in his hair, her legs around his waist, her skirts around hers as he thrust...

She clung desperately to her last fragments of self-control. Maddeningly, Mal seemed to not care about anything but his search for skin. Which was heavenly. But not helping.

* * * *

He'd had plenty of time to notice how perfect she is, every single inch he's seen bared or outlined beneath those clothes of hers. Plenty of time to imagine her. Plenty of time, sleepless nights, long and mostly useless stretches wasting time, waiting for a job or a call or a contact or maybe some sleep, to speculate all about her. About what exactly she learned to do at that Academy of hers, in between classes in language and literature and diplomacy and swordplay. What she knows, what she did that had the powerful men - and women - on most worlds in the 'verse clamoring for her, willing to flatter, to wait, and to pay for the chance to gain her indulgence.

He'd had time to ponder that she might not need anything at all from any man - she might be more naturally inclined toward women and simply contract with men to keep her client base as healthy as possible. Working the percentages. With her, a man never could tell. Mal supposed that was the point. How she was always - almost always - so beautifully composed. It had made him wonder, through the early months he'd known her, what her weaknesses might be. She had to have them. Everybody did. She was only human. He'd reflect on it alone, thinking about everything he'd noticed but pretended not to. Where on that perfect body all her little sensitivities lay, and what secret things she might require to have them satisfied. What would make her sigh and coo, moan, shiver, beg. Scream.

He still had those curiosities, every last one. Getting to know her further on, though, seeing how she cared and lived, how she made strangers into her family and let them into her heart. Realizing she was wonderful, that her beautiful face and body didn't begin to encompass everything that was special about her. But she'd sailed out into the 'verse, shoulders back and head up inside that Companion disguise, and let people treat her as such. Desired, coveted, admired, for how she looked and what she knew. As if that were enough of her to know. Not who she was, not the bright and courageous soul of her.

So other curiosities began to creep in. What would make her smile. Surprise her, delight her, make her laugh. Make her feel happy. Loved. How it would feel, after, his arms around her in the dark, closing his eyes as he listened to her breathing slow, her head resting on his heart. And he'd determined, that if by some unlikely star a chance ever came for him, he'd make sure she knew how special she was, because of herself alone and not the blind wolfen need he just ignored most of the time. That she'd know she was in the hands of the man that loved her.

And right now those hands were roving, exploring every inch of the…damned dress. Aching to get to the skin underneath. Were there buttons about? A cleverly concealed zipper?

His kiss deepened, responding to the way she was kissing him, making him crazy with her lips and her soft little tongue. He reminded himself of the sheer unmanliness of fainting at a time like this as her hands felt under his sweater. Caressing, searching for some access to naked skin. He heard her impatient sigh as she reached the same frustrating conclusion as his. Clothes, more clothes, and another gorramn layer of gorramn clothes. Should have gone somewhere tropical. Somewhere sultry.

His own search finally found some fruit as he discovered a row of tiny buttons from her breastbone down to her waist. Out of sheer preservation, he had been avoiding that area. But his hands had a mind of their own. He needed to touch. And her every sigh, her every moan, indicated to him that she needed to be touched. His fingers slid over the buttons, gauging where to start.

"Mal, we…" She turned her face away, trying to speak, giving him better access to her neck. Which he took advantage of.

"We…?" He murmured, his lips grazing her earlobe.

She sighed heavily, stroking his back. "The party…"

Wasn't thinking too much about what she was saying about the party. Because what he was doing to her neck had her shivering, and that was important information.

"The party, Mal." She slid her hands out from under his sweater, placing them gently on his arms. "Our party."

His hands stilled for a moment, then ran lightly over her hair and rested on her shoulders. "The party." He lifted his head, nodding in acknowledgement but instead of pulling away, he kissed her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tighter against him. This might be hell. Christmas party hell, and her the present he couldn't unwrap. But that didn't mean he was letting go of her that easy. He lifted her slightly, his knee gently nudged between hers.

"That's not helpful." But she wasn't moving away, wasn't making any effort to push him from her.

"I can be helpful." His softest whisper just above her ear. Eyes closing, she leaned into him, giving him her throat.

"After…" She whispered.

"After?" He kissed her again, trying to ignore reality. Dimly he understood the wisdom in her words but he wasn't yet ready to end this.

"Mal. After the party…" She breathed against his lips.

That got his attention. He lifted his head and looked down at her. A wry grin appeared. "Yeah…?"

"We…I…you…" The words came out stilted, between deep, steadying breaths.

He could do this. He was equal to this. The way he needed her, he could harness it down tight. This night, if it really was happening, wasn't going to be about her being desirable and willing, him being needful. He could do this. He could keep himself in check enough to stay...cogent. Human. He'd done it before, alone on a cold ship, running out of oxygen and drifting into his own mind's last fog - when the call came, the hun dan with the catalyzer and the offer and the treachery he might have seen, he kept it together. Didn't get desperate - look desperate - for another breath of air. He kept to the plan, no matter how loud the screaming got inside him. He could do this. He surely didn't need her more than oxygen.

"Inara…I…" Mal couldn't think of what to say. Things had snowballed out of control for him. For them. She met his eyes, and in hers he saw honest desire, and a question. She had offered once. She wasn't going to twist his arm about it. She was waiting for him.

He looked around her shuttle. Bare of all the Companion trappings of her previous existence on Serenity. His ardor cooled. It looked frighteningly temporary. Fear and uncertainty threatened to settle over him. He made himself to look down at her. Show her his fears.

"I don't want…" Just a tumble. _One night with you, and the next thousand trying to forget you_.

She looked at him closely, her fingers curling against his neck. "What do you want?"

He looked at her. Studied her face, her eyes that shone with everything he never expected to see in them. Life is short, he reminded himself. "I know what I want, Inara. And it's you. It's us." Better words weren't coming. He hoped she knew what he meant. "In my bunk. Tonight."

She blinked, looking stunned for a moment, then her smile softened. "Yeah?" The gentlest echo of his own inarticulate question.

"All night."

She smiled, nodding. "Yes."

"So…it's a…"

"Yes, it's a…"

One last kiss was necessary, he reasoned. They had just made plans of an assignational nature and the deal must be sealed with a kiss. But the kiss was another in a long line of increasingly impassioned kisses and he was human. A human man with a beautiful, passionate woman in his arms. Touching him, pressing herself against him. The sounds she made as he touched her. His earlier resolution to keep the wolf at bay fled as his mind strayed to the little bed in her shuttle. Just a cot, really. One thought, blazing through him. Her, under him or above, on that little cot. One word, _yes_, to answer the obliterating need that had him in its grip.

"Found you!" River exclaimed excitedly.

Mal froze. No! No! No! She's not here. That can't be River tapping his shoulder so impatiently. Tightening his arms around Inara, he lifted his head, gently dropping it into the crook of her neck. He felt her breathing deeply. "Good gorramn open-door hell."

"I'm interrupting," River stated matter of factly, not appearing as if she was in the slightest bit concerned. "But I'm in charge of the party and it will begin in twenty minutes."

River stood behind him, apparently waiting for one of them to acknowledge her. He risked a glance at Inara whose features were a mix of amusement and frustration. At least one of them found this funny.

* * * *

Inara was frustrated. Oh so desperately frustrated at River. But grateful that the girl had wandered in at that moment, rather than a few minutes later, when she might have interrupted more than kisses. She patted Mal's back, staying close to give him time to compose himself.

"Are you wearing that?" River's voice came again.

Mal looked confused. "We got a dress code for this thing, too?"

"Not you." She pointed at Inara, whose fingers were still curled in his hair. She walked to Inara pulling her arm off of Mal. "Too warm. Everything is ready. Kaylee has a surprise that I'm not telling you about."

River guided Mal out the door and pushed him lightly out of the shuttle. "Get yourself together. Twenty minutes. Exactly." She closed the shuttle door in his face and turned back to Inara. "I thought that each person should have two stars, three snowmen, and one angel. But your cookies are not blue. They are red. Red for Sihnon."

"River!" Inara's heart was pounding, her skin tingling. She took a deep breath trying to find her own composure. The shuttle was warm. Hot. She was shivering, heated, thirsty, and needed to get this oh-so-warm and inaccessible dress off. She turned her mind to the party, trying to banish thoughts of the after.

"Don't be scared," River said suddenly. "I didn't tell Jayne about his jerky."

Inara stared at River. "Uh, River…what you saw…"

"Hurry up!" River prompted walking over to the cot where Inara's dresses were laid out. "We are on a tight schedule. I've planned that the party will last precisely two hours." She pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to Inara. "We begin with mingling. Light conversation will last twenty minutes."

Inara looked at the paper. In her flawless handwriting, River had prepared a time table for the evening. Each activity had a specified timeframe.

"I'm uncertain how long to allocate for the gift exchange, which will include thanks and general admiration of gifts. Thirty minutes? Anyway, there will be another fifteen minutes of mingling and if necessary more snacking." She thought for a moment, "Is that too much mingle time? We see each other every day."

As she unbuttoned her dress, Inara remembered. It had been intoxicating, feeling him firmly against her as they stood, kissing heedlessly in the middle of her nearly empty shuttle. How he responded when she kissed him, touched him...the way he felt under her hands...

"Would you stop thinking about that?" River walked over to the little table that had paper and ink. "I'm going to prepare a matrix of appropriate conversation topics and who can discuss what with whom. Do you think I should put a footnote that we shouldn't talk about Wash and Book?"

Inara had heard the tiny catch in River's voice. "_Mei mei_, I don't think that's necessary."

"But it will make everyone sad."

"We're all a little sad anyway, River. It's not wrong to be sad. We miss our friends. Our family. And we always will." Inara took River's hand. "We keep them with us when we remember them, when we speak their names."

"Should I prepare a speech about them?" Before Inara could answer, River went on, agitated. "I scheduled no time for them. I _omitted_ them!" She was shaking, her eyes brimming with tears.

"No, sweetie." Inara's heart ached for River's confusion and loss. She put a hand gently on each of the girl's shoulders, and waited for River to meet her eyes. "You didn't. We'll go to the party, and...we'll see. We'll be together and we'll talk about them, not because it's on a schedule, but because they are part of us. And it's not easy, it won't be easy for a long while. But we're going forward, together."


	4. Chapter 4

Mal sat at the head of the table. The word, he told himself, was nonchalant. You can be nonchalant. You will be nonchalant, even if she's only a few feet away and glowing like candlelight. Smiling. _She just looked at me again. _Hair waving down her back. Soft as he'd always imagined. And she'd changed her dress. Nonchalant, he reminded himself. _You could be more nonchalant engulfed in flames._ _Which you are, after a fashion._

Mal looked away for a moment to admire the tree and to pass a bowl of dip from Zoë to Kaylee. After this interval he judged it was not improper to look at Inara again. In a nonchalant manner. Her red dress shimmered where the soft-looking fabric caught the light. She looked - well, like Christmas come early. Her neck and throat were bare, he could see that much under the little jacket, and he smiled at that. When the little jacket came off, there'd be lacy straps and no sleeves. Bare skin for him to touch. Kiss. She'd worn it for him, maybe. What she'd said...after...it was a lot for him to wrap his head around, the shock of actually kissing her, never mind that they'd made plans to spend the night together. In his bed.

A piece of paper was thrust into his line of vision. "Here is our party schedule."

"There's a schedule?" Mal looked up to see everyone had received a similar piece of paper.

"We can't mingle _and_ eat?" Jayne frowned at his paper. "We have to mingle then eat then mingle again? Why so much mingling?"

River rolled her eyes. "It's a party."

"This don't look like a party. Looks like a gorramn ---"

"Jayne," Zoë said, folding her schedule and putting it in her pocket. "River went to a lot of trouble to plan out this shindig. Least we can do is mingle as scheduled."

"Does mingling involve dancing?" Jayne looked suspiciously at Simon.

"Talking is sufficient." Zoë grinned at Simon's appalled expression. "So, River, when is the mingling to begin?"

"How about now?" Mal asked in his demanding way. River had the party planned for two hours. Exactly two hours. Two hours and then…_Ai ya_, he needed to get his mind on the party.

"Mingling is beginning…now!" River exclaimed excitedly, looking at everyone standing around. Her gaze moved to the tree and her face fell. "Kaylee—"

Kaylee saw River's problem. "We'll trim and mingle."

"I didn't---"

" 's'okay, sweetie! Trimming and mingling go hand in hand." Kaylee crossed to the wall cabinets, opened a lower door and retrieved the decorations they'd been gathering. "We'll get it done before we chow down."

"I brought wine." Simon opened a bottle placing it on the table.  
Jayne promptly drank from the bottle. He caught Simon's expression and made his own belligerent. "What? Drinkin' makes some of you easier to mingle with."

Simon shook his head. "The wine needs to breathe, Jayne. And there are glasses…"

"Wine don't got ta breathe. Ain't got a mouth." But he accepted a glass, poured some of the red wine, and handed it to Simon. "Pass this to 'Nara would ya?" He cackled. "Try not to throw it on her."

Inara smiled a comforting, sympathetic smile at Simon as she accepted the glass.

Under River's supervision, they all rose from the table, assignments in hand, and began mingling while Kaylee and River passed ornaments out of the box.

"So,'Nara," Kaylee said as she passed Inara a fluffy cloth ornament made, Inara saw, from remnants of an old dishtowel and colorful thread. "What was in them thermoses? Spicy rum? Tea? Ooohh, egg nog?"

"Hot cocoa, actually. Mal found a vendor."

Mal's attention strayed from Inara's dress to her words. He leaned forward, ostensibly to examine the layout of party food on the table that they couldn't eat yet.

"Cocoa? Protein cocoa, or the real stuff?"

"Fresh milk cocoa. A real luxury - there must be dairy farms close to town."

"Bet it was good..." Kaylee sounded wistful.

"It was." Inara's voice was sweet and calm, and she paused for a moment before continuing. "Actually, I've never had better."

Mal grinned, facing the tree, not trusting himself to add to the conversation. Kissing her in the sleigh, the little more they'd done in the shuttle - the memories kept on coming, playing havoc with his efforts to maintain calm. She'd kissed him. He'd kissed her and she'd kissed him right back. Her kisses - her hands on him - the way she'd sounded and what she'd said - the look of her with his arms around her, flushed and breathless and more beautiful than anything he'd hoped to see...

"Plain and peppermint." River tippy toed to reach the higher branches. "He gave her the peppermint. Then he wanted a taste."

"Did ya like it, Captain?" Kaylee asked, her voice hovering over a giggle. "Never figured you for a peppermint liker."

"Made her dizzy." River untangled a length of twine adorned with foil stars, and passed one end to Simon, pointing him toward the opposite side of the tree.

Although Kaylee's question was addressed to him, Mal felt compelled to see how Inara was reacting to River's latest comment. She was smiling, her eyes moving over the tree as well, but for a tiny moment she glanced in his direction and nodded.

"Cap'n?" Had he imagined the sharp look his mechanic was giving him?

"It...was fine." He glanced at the tree and Inara again. He was trying really hard not to think of the _after_, but the line of conversation wasn't helping. Zoë's eyes were on him and he refused to look up. Even to see the very welcome sight of her amusement. He waved his hand slightly to her acknowledging that he knew she was laughing at him.

"Quickly, Kaylee!" River called out, her voice in a panic. "It's almost snack time and the tree needs to be finished by then. We can't get behind schedule."

His own fear of being behind schedule prompted Mal to get up and help with the decorating. River had moved a chair as close to the tree as she could, but there was still perilous distance between her outstretched hand and the highest branches.

"Need a hand with that, little one?"

"Two hands would be more effective, Captain."

Lifting River up, he watched her face, her eyes fixed in concentration. She put one hand on his shoulder while the other reached out to settle the largest star at the top of the tree. "Don't Jayne!" River warned not looking away from her task.

"But there's food everywhere!"

"Food will be consumed in…oh…hurry, Kaylee!" She moved the chair back to its place at the table, glared a warning at Jayne, and turned to thank Mal for helping her up.

After a few more minutes of closely supervised decorating, River judged the tree to be adequately trimmed and announced the beginning of snack time. "Each reveler may choose to sit at the table, or to hold a plate and glass and snack standing up. For those choosing to stand, take care to keep close proximity to the tree." She pointed sternly. "It's festive."

Everyone stood in place unsure of River's directive. Kaylee blinked at River, then quickly scanned the faces of the crew before meeting Inara's eyes, sending her a pleading look. _Help._

"Look at all this wonderful food. You've been busy." Inara noticed the thin, crisp cookies, dotted with anise seeds and sprinkled with powdered sugar, stacked on little plates around the table.

Kaylee nodded enthusiastically. "But Zoë brought bananas. And coconut." She walked around the table, her smile wide as she surveyed the rare treats. "Jayne," she called to the big mercenary, who was leaning over the table, "try some of that cheese. It's hot."

His mouth was already full. "I like hot."

"Hot is good." Kaylee agreed, spreading the dip over a cracker and passing it to Simon.

Mal met Inara's amused glance from the opposite end of the table.

"You gonna fix a plate, Cap'n? Ain't touched a bite..." Kaylee sounded amused.

"Nearly forgot - we got some candy canes and maple stars in town. For the tree. 'Nara found them at a sweet shop on the lane." And he didn't see them anywhere. Which meant they were likely still all by their lonesome up in her shuttle. Someone ought to go fetch them.

"Candy canes?" Jayne was interested.

Inara glanced toward the tree as she nodded. "It was Mal's idea."

Nonchalant. Nice and easy. He cocked an eyebrow at Inara. "They still up in your...?" He let his question trail off with a vague gesture down the corridor.

Inara shrugged at him, "Yes, but I'm not sure where. Did you see - " How about that? He'd lay bets that she hadn't mislaid so much as one hairpin in all her born days. Fastidious as an old lady's fluffy cat, that one. But there she was, _nonchalantly_ claiming to have no idea as to the candy's whereabouts. A plan was spinning, taking form. He'd claim a remembrance and go after the sweets. Hide out in the shuttle. She'd flounce out, properly huffy, a few minutes later when he failed to return with the goods. Not a bad plan for on the spot, and it'd buy them a few minutes alone with fewer layers and her tasting like the wine she'd been sipping and -

"For the tree?" River asked, suddenly by his side. "Then we need them now. While we're still within the initial decorating and snacking interval. Otherwise, we'll have to suspend the party timetable and readjust each subsequent event accordingly."

That didn't sound good. Mal could allow nothing, nothing to suspend the gorramn party timetable. Not even a few stolen minutes alone with her. It'd be nothing but torture, getting to touch her, taste her again and then having to come back and wait even longer...

"I'm sure I'll be able to lay hands to them in just a moment, River." Inara was already moving toward the corridor. At a very brisk pace. Mal smiled, let himself think about the implications of that brisk pace, just a little.

* * *

Inara rushed to her shuttle, immediately finding the sweets that she may have accidentally-on-purpose left behind. As she rounded the corner back to the dining room, she saw Mal. Waiting by the entrance, almost blocking it. She smiled, at his own accidentally-on-purpose shenanigans. She drifted past him, her body deliberately brushing against his back. As she passed, he looked down at her. A look that no one else could see, that spoke plainly desire and, for one that was looking, maybe something deeper.

She quickly found her seat, filling her plate with food, whatever was closest to hand. It wasn't only the glance from him that had her reeling - it was what she knew her own eyes had told him in return, in the moment before she'd stepped out of the little privacy the corridor afforded.

The party was turning out to be very nice, Inara thought, River's odd directions notwithstanding. She was trying her utmost to keep her awareness in the moment, rather than thinking about Mal…about the plans they had made for that night. But her body hadn't calmed - she was incredibly aroused and sensitive all over, feeling even the slight movement of her own clothing against her skin. _Patience_, she reminded herself as she rose from her seat at the table and went to the tree, keeping her back to Mal.

She couldn't resist looking at him across the table. She'd seen him doing the same thing - keeping his eyes moving over the faces of their friends and the decorated tree - but the few times that their eyes met rocked her composure severely. _All night_, he'd said. Was this really going to happen? What would he be like? He was strong, Inara knew, she'd seen him work tirelessly all day when the need arose. Need. _Stamina_, whispered a hungry voice in her consciousness and Inara had to close her eyes for a moment. And he was a beautiful man. She hadn't forgotten him, cheerfully naked in the desert...

She heard River sigh, knew she was being given to understand that the teenager was out of patience with her. "Everyone remembers _that_."

Inara crossed to Kaylee. "The table looks lovely - quite a festive party, thank you for preparing it for us."

Kaylee smiled. "Felt like we had to try, ya know? Zoë's trying, the Cap'n...Jayne...everybody." Her eyes found Simon, standing near River at the tree, then returned to Inara. "We didn't do much last Christmas. But Wash made pancakes Christmas morning, before he and Zoë left. And Jayne and me waved the Shepherd Christmas Eve. He was all dressed up from services that night, they'd done a real nice Nativity with all the kids..." Her voice grew quiet and trailed off. She didn't speak for a long moment, but took Inara's hand and squeezed it. "Nothing to do but keep trying."

Inara nodded an agreement, not trusting herself to speak her answer.

"Where were you last Christmas? Someplace swanky, I bet."

Inara shook her head. "Not so terribly swanky." She smiled, gestured with open hands. "I was at the Training House. The students were gone for their winter holidays, and many of the teachers...were traveling as well. I had a quiet brunch with some friends. A few brought their instruments and gave us a concert...we sang..." She shrugged. "I read for a while, took a nap...later some of us took a walk through the grounds. It was a pleasant and relaxing day." _And I missed you so. All of you._

A familiar, mischievous expression lit up Kaylee's face. "What'd you get the Cap'n for Christmas? Besides a taste of your _peppermint_?"

Inara sighed. She'd been waiting for this, had an answer prepared. "I got him some new ledgers for Serenity's books." Ledgers? What had she been thinking? It seemed a lifetime ago she perused the modest shop on Angel, thinking of an appropriate gift for Mal. Ledgers were safe. Practical, necessary and absolutely safe. "But I came to hear about you." She let her smile grow. "How is your first Christmas with Simon?"

"I got plans." Kaylee returned the smile with her own confiding grin, leaned in closer. "And an outfit!"

Kaylee wasn't able to elaborate on her Christmas outfit as the sound of River clapping her hands drew everyone's attention.

"We're singing now. I am distributing a list of songs which if interpreted correctly should take us only slightly over our fifteen minute mark."

Less than five minutes later, River put a halt to the caroling. "Ok! Enough with the singing!" She cried, her hands pressed over her ears, glaring at Jayne. "It's a little ahead of schedule but I believe it's time for the gift exchange."

"Does any of my presents involve nakedness?" Jayne looked over the gifts under the tree.

"You have some strange holiday traditions, Jayne," Zoë said.

"Naked don't have to be smutty - some of it's downright artistical." Kaylee's eyes danced. "Right Simon?"

Simon looked at the assembled faces before answering cautiously. "The human form is beautiful and certainly a worthy artistic subject."

"Is it ever! Hey! Speaking of nakedness…" Jayne turned his attention to Inara. "You ever? Artsy like? Like if you were in a fountain?"

"Are you asking if I've ever posed naked in a fountain?"

"No, he ain't." Mal interrupted loudly with a glare at Jayne. "We don't talk about nakedity at Christmas."

"We don't?" Jayne asked, looking befuddled.

"I'm weary of all the naked sex thoughts at the party." River admonished. "Please, everyone over here."

They all obligingly dragged their chairs around the Christmas tree. River, with a Santa hat perched menacingly on her head, distributed the gifts informing the recipient whether or not they would like their gift.

'River! Stop!" Kaylee cried out as River told Mal he wouldn't like Kaylee's gift. "Cap'n will love it!"

It's a…" the box contained something soft and blue. He lifted it out. "A robe?"

Kaylee ran her hand down the front, showing Mal the robe's desirable features."See, it's got a pocket for your..." she faltered, thinking, "it's got a pocket...And a belt to keep all your business to yourself."

Mal's expression was one of vague horror. He met Inara's eyes, looked down at the robe and back up at her. Inara smiled, indulging in a brief reverie that involved the two of them and the soft, fluffy belt.

A loud sigh from River's direction interrupted her thoughts. She looked up guiltily only to find River looking at Mal whose eyes were fixed intently on stuffing the robe back in the box. And she would swear that he was red in the face.

"How 'bout that?" He grinned at Kaylee, after stealing another glance at Inara. "I love it."

"Thought you might---" Kaylee began.

"Other presents, Kaylee. We can't spend all our time on the Captain's robe." River handed Jayne the round tin from Mal. "That's an interesting sweater," she observed, scrutinizing him.

Simon and Kaylee cackled.

" 's gay apparel, don't you humps know nothin'?"

"What's the significance of the donkeys?" River asked peering closely at his sweater.

"I think they're asses, River," Simon commented.

"They're reindeers for you Buddha types. You know the ones that went to that place?" He lifted the lid, beaming at his gift. Tearing open the cellophane bag, he pulled on a piece. "This here's some mighty fine jerky."

The sounds of Jayne chewing the tough jerky were soon drowned out by the bustle of more gift unwrapping. Kaylee sighed happily, exclaiming over everyone's gift in turn. Inara smiled, loving her friend for the sincere excitement and joy she gave with such generosity. For the loving warmth she poured out to friends that needed it more than any of them knew. She glanced at Mal and saw him watching Kaylee. Smiling. His eyes met hers and they held, speaking love for the family gathered around them. For their home.

Soon, all that remained was a small box which River handed to Kaylee. "Saved this one for last. It's from Zoë," she said sitting down on the floor.

Kaylee carefully unwrapped the present, staring inside the box. She looked up at Zoë, tears brimming in her eyes. "Oh, Zoë…" She sniffled.

"All his favorites. Some actually ain't half bad." Zoë smiled sadly, tears brimming in her eyes. "Plenty of Beatles…"

Kaylee rushed to Zoë, holding her close. "We listened to these all the time." Kaylee said, her face in Zoë's hair. "Waitin' for ya'll…Never thought I'd…Thank you."

Zoë patted her back, smiling through her own tears. Inara felt her own eyes fill as Zoë met her eyes over Kaylee's shoulder. The two women nodded at each other. River walked to Simon, putting her hand on his shoulder. Jayne looked down at his shoes.

Mal rose from the table, and wordlessly walked to his bunk. Inara watched him leave the room, shocked that he would go so abruptly. She looked around, seeing everyone else's equally surprised expression. Zoë looked up still holding Kaylee. Her gaze narrowed in an angry glare.

"Party over?" Jayne asked, his voice gruffer than usual. "Or is Mal just bein' a hump?"

"I'm sure the Captain…" Simon started.

"Those ornaments aren't equidistant from each other." River left Simon and went to the tree.

"I'll just…" Inara rose, her anger with Mal's wretchedly insensitive behavior rising explosively through her. She'd find him - let him know exactly what she thought of him and his self-absorbed brooding. Refuse his offer - withdraw her own. Her hands stung with the urge to slap his face. Hard. How dare he? When everyone else was trying their utmost to help each other through...

She reached the corridor's entrance just as Mal emerged from his bunk. The scathing words died on her tongue. He gave her a grin, sad but without the hopelessness she'd seen there too often. As he passed, he squeezed her hand encouragingly. Inara nodded, momentarily abashed at being so ready to think the worst of him. She saw the unopened bottle in his hand and her heart stung in her chest. Sadness for the loss they all shared, pride for his strength.

"Shepherd gave me this 'fore he left." He placed a bottle of whiskey on the table. "Savin' it for an occasion such as this."

Zoë picked up the bottle, walked around, filling everyone's glass. She stopped at River, still busying herself around the tree, and held up the bottle. River paused, sniffed, muttered something about embalming fluid, and refused. After everyone's glasses were filled, Zoë stood next to Mal.

He lifted his glass. "To a…very fine crew." He looked around the room, meeting all their gazes, lingering longer on a few. "Hope next year finds you all…well and whole…" His finger tapping the table, uncomfortable. "…and…well…contented."

The room was silent. Everyone lost in their own thoughts, then the sound of a loud, scraping chair filled the room.

"Best gorramn pilot in the 'verse." Jayne helped himself to another shot of the whiskey. "Uncanny luck with women." He grinned at Zoë. "Fair drinker, small as he was. Not half bad, and I miss him. Always did his share of chores. Jokes weren't all stupid. Pretty useless in a bar fight and he knew it, but he'd pitch in anyway. And he didn't cockblock me." He paused, his face in a silent grimace. A long moment passed before he spoke again. "Man saved us all."

"That he did," Mal said, nodding at Zoë.

They all drank quietly. Mal downing his shot, holding his glass to Zoë for another.

"He decided what mattered." The voice was low but carried from where River stood behind the Christmas tree. "And it wasn't his secrets or his sins. What he'd done, or what he couldn't forget. What mattered to him were people that mattered to no one else in the 'verse. Dusty people with shovels. He saw their souls and called them shiny." She walked out of the shadows, holding a star in each hand. Crossed to her brother, who watched her with an expression of sad tenderness. "He traveled past everything he'd done when he'd believed what he believed before he believed...he made his own mind and his own life," At this, River's voice caught and grew softer. "Even if no one thought he could.

She turned to the rest of the crew, and continued. "But his hair…"

Zoë laughed. "Man did have a head of hair."

And the sadness was lifted. Not gone altogether but the moment they each knew was coming had come and passed without too much difficulty. With relief, they drank the rest of their whiskey, Jayne began singing a Christmas song about bowlegged women, claiming Wash had taught it to him.

Zoë walked over to the still-sniffling Kaylee, and held her close, whispering something which made Kaylee giggle.

"Come on, doc! Words ain't that hard!" Jayne called to Simon before resuming his song. "Christmas Dolores showed off her--"

Inara turned to Mal who still stood at the head of the table, apart from everyone. She expected sadness and grief but was again surprised at his rueful grin.

"I actually know that song," he said, looking down at her.

"Charming."

His voice lowered. "According to the schedule," he patted his shirt pocket. "All we have is clean up then Kaylee's surprise…"

"Is that right?" She tried to act as if she wasn't aware that the evening with the crew was drawing to an end. That her evening with Mal was just about to begin.

"River!" He bellowed. "Schedule?"

***

Kaylee had dispensed hugs all around, then scampered off to the common area to prepare the surprise. "C'mon with me, Simon," she urged, eyeing Mal. Smart girl.

"Hehe, little Kaylee can surprise me any night of the year, especially after she's ..." the rest of the utterance was unintelligible. For Jayne, "cleaning up" meant scarfing leftovers from the serving dishes still on the table.

River had put down the broom and was stroking the dark green tunic Zoë had given her. "I'll look far less touched," she commented to Zoë, her eyes shining.

Zoë smiled at her. "You'll look like the beautiful girl you are." She heard River's embarrassed little cough and patted the girl's hand. "I have an idea. Let's take your new pretties to your room and you can try them on for me. Regular fashion show." She nodded again, encouragingly, and River smiled. Zoë headed out closely behind River, throwing Mal a quick glance as she left.

As they walked out, Mal heard River asking Zoë what cockblocking was.

Mal glanced at Inara, who had moved into the galley with some wine glasses and mugs. They were alone. Or, they would be, as soon as his troll of a mercenary made himself scarce. Then, Mal promised himself, he could do just a few of the things he'd been agonizing to do throughout the snacks and the gifts and the compulsory mingling. Kiss her again. Touch her. Bare skin, this time. The skin she'd been showing him, little glimpses of shoulders and throat and décolletage, whenever she moved. Moving, and catching his eye a moment later. Smiling at him in a way that gave him to understand, she wasn't teasing. Well, not only teasing. She had him on her mind, same as he had her on his. After....

He moved aside as Jayne delivered the first load of dishes into the basin of soapy water he'd filled, then trundled out for more scavenging.

After was getting awfully close. Just get through cleanup, stop by for a decent interval at little Kaylee's surprise, and rendezvous with Inara in his bunk. Her in his bed, that pretty dress on his floor.

Jayne was snuffling around the table, stacking dishes with one hand while he shoveled bananas, crackers, and cheese into his mouth with the other. He broke off for a moment to add more dishes to the sink, then returned to the table. Mal picked up the broom and advanced on him, but Jayne changed direction and sailed to the far end of the table. He turned and found himself face to face with Inara, who had come to the galley entrance. She held his eyes for a moment, then moved her gaze deliberately to his mouth before returning to his eyes. Her hand was warm on his...

"Thank you." She caressed the back of his hand with her fingers, eyes still shining up at him as she waited for him to pass her the broom. Which he did, returning the caress to her hand as she wrapped it around the broomstick.

"I'll get the spoons." He wasn't moving.

"That would be very helpful." Neither was she.

"This wine weren't half bad." Jayne called out as he tucked the empty carafe under his arm and wiped his lips on the arm of his reindeer sweater. He continued his lap around the table, eyeing a bowl of dip.

Mal stepped around him and swiftly collected the napkins from the table, returning to the galley. Inara was waiting with the broom. "I'm finished with this, thank you." She stepped closer to his free hand.

He let his fingers skim from her elbow to her fingertips. "I can use that out here."

Inara nodded. "I'll take those napkins." He saw her eyes quickly flick behind him, then she leaned forward and brushed her hand across his. "Oh, wait." She set the napkins on the counter and reached both hands to his face. Her fingertips brushed the erratic fringe of hair around his face. "I thought you had a little piece of something from the tree in your hair, let me see..." One hand rested on his shoulder, massaging gently while the other stroked his hair.

He saw her send another quick look over his shoulder, then felt the pressure on his shoulder increase. She had risen on her toes, quickly, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips before backing away to the sink.

Mal swung around and nearly collided with Jayne and the remaining empty plates from the party. Jayne gathered the plates to himself successfully, but his efforts dislodged the carafe from its spot lodged in Jayne's armpit. The glass bottle pitched forward and crashed to the floor, sending tiny twinkling shards of glass all over the galley floor. Inara gave a little gasp.

"Good thing I killed that before you did." Jayne shrugged and made to move past Mal into the galley.

"Like hell! Leave those dishes on the counter and get out!" He was bellowing, trying not to grin at this sudden good fortune.

"I was gonna -" Jayne gestured at the floor.

"It's already all over in here. Damage done. I'll see to it. You track it in, you'll track it right back out again. Be months, finding it all over the ship." Mal lowered his voice, but waved Jayne away dismissively. "Go see what wonder Kaylee has for us, we'll be along directly."

He watched Jayne lumber toward the common area, then crossed the few steps to Inara, taking her by the waist with both of his hands. "You," he said, lifting her and setting her on an empty stretch of countertop, "should be up here." He raised his eyebrows, shook his head, the picture of mock concern. "That glass is perilous sharp."

Her smile was amused. "I've handled myself against broken glass before." But she indulged him, stayed put for the moment it took him to sweep up.

"Some might have got in these slippers of yours." Mal stepped close and kissed her before drawing off one slipper. Held the slipper, stepped close again for another kiss.

Felt her fingers trace his neck and his face, nestle in his hair as their kiss grew more passionate. After a long moment, he stepped back, smiling. "Best check the other one too, ma'am."

Ran his fingers over her toes and the arch of each foot as he did so, utterly beguiled with the way she shivered at his touch. He put the slippers on a nearby stool, circled one ankle with his fingers before trailing his fingers up the back of her calf. Got another shiver for his troubles. He kissed her, resting his hand on her bared knee.

Not quite bared. His fingers skated curiously on each side of her kneecap. Stockings. These merited some examination. He broke off the kiss, let his eyes follow his hand. Stockings. Inara wore the sheerest stockings he'd ever imagined, nearly invisible, just a faint sheen of golden silk against her skin. From her toes, over her calves, over her knees...how far up?

"Stockings?"

Her voice was smoke and heat against his mouth as she answered. "It _is_ Christmas."

The woman was going to kill him.

He turned to her again, keeping eye contact as he circled the other ankle, repeated his treatment of her calf and knee. Watched her eyelashes flutter, watched her bite her lip delicately as she shivered. Soon he had a hand on each of her spread knees, and stepped closer.

"You're safe." She raised an eyebrow at this pronouncement, so he clarified. "No glass."

Inara kissed him. scooting close to the edge of the counter, pressing against him, putting her hands at the small of his back, moving them lower to urge him close. Closer. Kissed him, tracing against his mouth with her warm tongue. Wiggled herself right to the edge of the counter, slid those knees past his hips, used the muscles in her thighs - like a bareback rider, he couldn't help thinking - to pull him right up against her. Close as he could get, clothed. Mal looked down at her legs, still pressed right against his hips, holding him there. Stockings.

Couldn't help but notice the height she was, perched like this on the countertop and moving against him, was perfect. Would be perfect. More perfect than any of the dozens of sweaty dreams he'd had about this exact event. Not the slightest misalignment, they would be perfect. Except this was Inara, and he wanted - told himself, reminded himself he wanted, as they kissed and she touched him and somehow got closer yet - he wanted their first time to be more than some frenzied coupling on the countertop in his galley, scrambling to finish before someone discovered them.

She moved against him again, touching him while they kissed and she moaned softly, a sound pitched high and rising higher. His hands, in frank rebellion against his brain's plan to slow down, roamed over her and sussed out the material of her party dress, gauging if there was enough give in the bodice to ease it downwards and get themselves access to more of her than was currently on the menu. The little sounds she was making were short-circuiting his brain.

He could feel the trembling that ran under her skin, growing. It had been a while, but Mal hadn't forgotten what those sounds and that trembling meant from a woman. She was close, and it was all he could think about.

"I'm sorry - I shouldn't have - we'd better stop." She had stopped herself, scooted back a tiny bit, and was resting her forehead on his shoulder, hands clutching at his arms as if against some invisible tempest.

Mal leaned slightly away and checked the hall leading into the dining area. Empty. He stroked her hair, moved the silky black locks off her neck and behind one ear. He made his voice soft and low. "You don't have to stop, darlin'." It was apparently the crazy talk part of the evening. How he imagined he'd ever be able to hold to his composure while watching her, feeling her, making her...This was the most wonderful really bad idea he'd had in an age, and if she waved him on there's no way he'd stop.

Her head snapped up as the implications of his softly whispered offer filtered into her brain. Mal saw that her eyes were almost black, wild with passion. Then her face softened in a tender, secret smile, and she reached one hand to smooth back his hair. Her voice came out in a husky whisper. "I'll wait for you."

***

She'd lost her mind, Inara decided. Mal had kissed her and made her lose her mind, she barely recognized herself. Against all reason, when she knew they had no privacy and they only had a few minutes to wait in any case, she found herself making out with Mal on the kitchen counter, skirts in wild disarray around her thighs. The thighs she'd clenched against his hips. So she could...grind against him? Which was apparently what the new, crazy Inara did, after more than a year of no sex and months of living with a man she loved and wanted more than she'd ever imagined possible.

No. This was beyond the pale, even for a woman in her...extreme circumstance. She took a deep breath, realigned her posture to put some distance between them, and called a halt. And nearly melted when he'd whispered his offer in her ear.

_Yes!_ screamed every part of her, desperate for release. But she felt his hands on her, steadying her, saw the love and the hunger in his eyes. She wanted him to know. She wanted him to see how intensely he'd affected her, exactly what his touch and his kiss and he himself had done. She could probably manage to be somewhat quiet, if only by biting her lip or having him kiss her as she climaxed, but she didn't want to. She wanted him to know.

He backed away and turned right to the sink full of dishes, plunging his hands into the soapy water as if to forestall more touching. She slid off the counter, put her slippers back on, and joined him there. "I'll dry?" She held up a towel.

He shook his head. "You'd better get along down to the surprise. I need a moment to compose myself, woman. Again."

* * *

Mal sat down in the only seat left, the one next to Inara at the edge of the couch. She smiled genially at him, but he noticed a tension to her expression that hadn't been there before. "What's the surprise?" he asked, directing his question to her but pitching his voice for general conversation. He felt Inara breathe deeply beside him as Kaylee answered.

"It's a Wonderful Life!"

Mal clapped his hands together. "And gettin' more wonderful by the moment. Thanks for the...surprise exclamation, Kaylee. I'm sure we all feel the same. Sort of."

"That's not the surprise, Mal." Inara's expression was carefully pleasant as she explained. "It's the name of the surprise. Which is a movie."

"An old-time Christmas movie from Earth-that-Was." Kaylee clapped her hands in delight. "One of the best."

"A movie?" His mind was growling at the implications. "A once-upon-a-time a lotta _goh se _happened with people who don't get their problems resolved in a straightforward, quick, efficient kinda way?"

"Two hours. Two more hours." She'd whispered it to him with a tiny glance. Cold comfort, knowing she was suffering, too. Made it worse. He looked at Kaylee, trying to keep the horror out of his eyes. She beamed at everyone, so pleased with her gift. Mal felt like a heel. He heard Zoë across the room, she was making a very poor effort at keeping her laughter contained. Looking back at Kaylee, he mustered what he hoped was an interested smile. Damn. Shoulda broke every dish in the galley.


	5. Chapter 5

It might break her heart, the tenderness he was showing her now. Her feet hadn't touched the last rung of his ladder - he'd crossed to her there, wrapping both arms around her and holding her against his body, her feet inches from the floor as he kissed her.

"Inara."

The entire evening, she'd been incredibly aroused, thinking about him undoing the ties and clasps of this dress, undressing her hungrily, heedlessly, laying passionate claim to her bare skin. But when he crossed to the bed and set her gently on its edge, keeping his hands on her waist as he sank to his knees between hers, she was overwhelmed with emotion.

They were face to face, kissing, kissing, and although she could feel the tension in him as she stroked his shoulders and arms, he simply held her. Slowly, so slowly, his hands traced up her sides and over the lacy straps of her shoulders, through her hair, across her back, then down to her waist again. As he repeated his gentle exploration, Inara felt his hands stop as his fingers found the clasps hidden in seams in the side of her dress. He drew back and looked at her, then lowered his eyes to one of the rows of clasps. She watched a crooked smile trace across his mouth as he raised his eyes to hers again.

She returned the smile and took one hand from his shoulder and opened the fastenings on each side of her waist, loosening the bodice of her gown. His hands moved up her bare arms, fingers easing under the now-loosened straps, sliding them from her shoulders and kissing the newly exposed skin beneath them.

"Inara."

His hands were inside her bodice now, stroking the bare skin of her back, her sides. Slowly.

She raised her hands from his shoulders to his neck and then to cradle his face, feeling the excruciating strain everywhere she touched. Inara leaned forward, letting the loose bodice slip low over her skin, and felt him nearly flinch, his hands tightening around her as he realized what she was doing. He devoured her neck hungrily for a moment as she unbuttoned his shirt, then stilled himself with a straining effort she could feel. She whimpered, moved restlessly in his hands, needing his touch over more of her skin, and heard him moan through gritted teeth.

"Inara."

She pushed the cotton shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, pulled the sleeves along his bare arms and let the shirt fall to the floor behind him. She sighed as she touched him, finally bare to her. Pulled back from the passion of their kiss to watch her own hands and fingers skim the muscles of his chest, trace the scars mysterious and known. Beautiful. Listened to his breathing hitch, felt her own urgency grow in response to the sound.

He slid his hands over the curve of her hips and along her thighs, past her knees and ankles. Took a moment, smiling to himself while he kissed her, to take off her slippers. Hands moving again, fingertips and warm palms, over the sheer golden stockings she wore. She felt his fingers stop, trace intently the edge of lace at the top of her stockings, then move over the bare skin of her thighs and hips between the tops of her stockings and the narrow ribbon of her panties. Up, down, again, again, again with the same slow intensity, increasing the pressure of his fingers as they spanned across her hips.

"Mal?" How long had they lived together? His isolation was no secret to her. She knew his need had to be terrible, and yet he held it at bay. For her. His hands, his mouth moved over her as though she were some priceless treasure to be cherished. Cherished. And she cherished him. The broken, needing parts of him along with the brave. His decency, his strength.

Needing to be closer, she shrugged out of the loose straps that rested at her elbows, letting her gown puddle around her waist. She put her arms around his neck and slid off the bed, settling herself against him. The shock of his bare skin against hers radiated through her in an instant, and she heard something like a gasp as he moved against her. She put her arms around his chest and let her hands play over his back and shoulders, kissing from his jawline down his throat to the wild pulse at the base of his neck.

She felt the restraint throughout him, in his hands as they roamed, still so slowly, over her skin; in how he tightened and shuddered in response to her touch. There was so much he was holding in, she knew. It was what she herself did, and had done, every day of her adult life. Containing herself, not showing when she was moved or upset, weak or in need. It was a way to protect the self within the Companion, a way to maintain distance. Safe. Inara looked at Mal, and realized it was the last thing she wanted tonight.

Mal," she repeated. She moved against him, insistent, heard herself cry out, heard him growl against her skin. It was torment, she felt herself shaking with need as she reached for him.

"Inara..." It sounded like an invocation. He caught her hand and kissed it, shuddered as she ran it down his neck and over his chest. "Tryin' to keep my wits about me."

"I want to -" How does one unmake a lifetime of habit? She shivered, wondering if she had the courage.

"Pretty sure that's where we're headed," he replied, his breath tickling her bared skin. But after a moment he met her eyes, and she saw concern in his. "What's wrong?"

She kissed him. "I want something real for us."

His eyes were guarded now. "This...is real. The way I feel about you...ain't no falsity."

Her hands moved over him again, slowly. "Then let go for me."

"Inara - " He was straining against her and she thought the heat might scald them both.

"It's okay."

"Why is it okay?" Tension reverberated through every word. "Because it's all known to you, what a man is?"

"No." She shook her head. "Because it's me. And it's you." She moved his hand, needing him to understand. Heard him gasp, sharply. Inara took a long moment to reach for the words as he touched her. Whispered the last against his mouth. "And I'm finished pretending that I don't need you."

They rose, leaning into each other, kissing, struggling for a moment with her tangled dress and the buttons on his trousers. Soon, all their clothing lay discarded in a tangle on the floor as they pressed against each other, needing.

"I want to know you, Inara." His eyes searched hers. "Show me."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he laid her down on his bed, covering her body with his own. He was so close, naked against her, and although his hands, his mouth moved intimately over her body, Inara knew he was waiting. "Show me." His voice was low.

"Mal..."

"Be with me, Inara."

Inara drew a deep breath and nodded, crying out at the feel of him and the sudden look in his eyes. A blazing, searching hope. She kissed him and prayed for courage. She was shaking, her throat tightening and her own heart seeming to press against her as she breathed. Kissed him again and spoke the truth.

"I love you."

She whispered it to him. He nodded and closed his eyes and kissed her and she felt him let go, finally, in the way he reached for her, touched her, kissed her. Something was breaking, opening inside her too while he let her see him, know him, the need and the fear, the isolation and the yearning. Knowing her, learning her like this, exposed and shaking and far from control, but not alone. They traveled together, into and over and throughout each other, each drawing from the other the courage to show everything they'd hidden for so long.

-------------------------

Inara loved him.

"You love me?" After. A question he could ask now, only because he'd seen her, he'd heard her voice when she'd said what she said. He hadn't expected to hear it, had been stunned at the luminous power of her truth, between them in the dark. But for all that, he found that it was something he'd already known. So he could ask.

"I do."

"Huh." He felt her smile. "How 'bout that." Pulled her closer, let his hands play over her skin, remembering. Listening to her breathing, calmly now.

"Indeed."

"Bit of good fortune for me, I reckon. Ow!" She'd bitten him. It was apparently some signal of hers that he'd have to puzzle out.  
"You were saying?" All naked, wanton innocence. Even sexier with that cultured voice of hers.

"Works out shiny." He nodded, then found her soft hair, smoothing it back from her face so that she might see him when he said it. One finger traced above her eyebrow, the graceful curve around her eye and cheekbone. She was smiling, but her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. "Because I love you, Inara. More than I thought I could, more than I know how to say. Been so long, not wanting to let myself think about you, think we could ever try for more than what we had."

"This is more," she said simply, echoing the words between them in the sleigh. "Here we are. And I'm so happy, Mal."

He'd never heard her sound like that. But he recognized the new music in her voice. It was the same dazzled, humble joy he felt anew, every time he looked at her, touched her and discovered, again, that this wasn't a dream. Inara loved him.

He held her close, touching a kiss to her forehead as she trailed a gentle hand across his chest. Breathed deeply and felt the soft warmth of her pressed against him. Spoke her name, softly, and felt her lift her head from his shoulder to meet his eyes.

"Tell me again."

-------------------------

He called it making love.

The way he said it, whispered against her ear or spoken with soft honesty into the darkness, made her heart so tender Inara could barely endure it. It wasn't a term she usually associated but it applied; perfectly described the physical expression, the intimate communication, which allowed her to open her heart to Mal. Far safer than words.

Inara still couldn't believe she had told him. She was surprised at how important it was for him to know she loved him. For some time, she had acknowledged, privately, the depth of her feelings for him. Had fought it, ignored it, railed at it but there it was facing her every day she lived on _Serenity_. Leaving hadn't helped. Back on Mr. Universe's moon, she had thought she was going to die, had been certain of it, and the thought that had haunted her was that she was going to die with a soul's weight of regret concerning Mal. She didn't want to live with that regret any longer.

He had risked so much for the people he loved, kept them close, did crazy stupid things to keep them together. She knew he hadn't planned on things to get this far between them. That would be an optimism that Mal was not known for. But this afternoon, as they shopped, she saw him talking with the old lady, stealing glances at her, and she remembered her regret, thought of his courage in all things except with the battered remnants of his heart.

He loved her. Deep down, she'd known it but despaired of him ever chancing the distance between them, of trusting her, and himself enough to pursue something more.

She rubbed her cheek against his head, loving the weight of him as he lay on top of her dozing a little. Trailing her fingers along his back, she felt the slight sheen of sweat. Smiling, she became aware of the sweat on her own skin, of the slight, humid stickiness where his belly lay against hers. She wiggled under him, trying to alleviate some of the stickiness.

"Ain't sleeping." His voice rumbled, but he did not move.

She honestly thought he had been. "No?"

He raised his head, grinning at her. "No."

She grinned back at him, feeling his wakefulness. Lifting her knees, she glided her feet over his legs crossing her ankles against the small of his back. His hands went to cup her face and he shifted slightly. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt him slide into her. Mal stilled, taking a moment for them to sense each other this way. She could feel his eyes on her. Inara opened her eyes, her gaze locking on his as he began to move, to move for her.

Mal smiled, new and sweet, his hands caught hers, moving them up, holding them above her head. He kept a slow rhythm, his eyes never straying from hers. Her breath hitched, her heart pounded, she craved to urge him _faster_, but he moved slowly, deeply. Inara could feel the tension in him, maintaining the excruciatingly slow pace that he had to know was making her crazy. She heard a soft whimper, felt her climax pulsing through her. He tightened his grip on her hands as she cried out, wrapping her legs more tightly around him, pulling him as close as she could.

Inara smiled up at him as the subsiding tremors still travelled through her body. "I'd like my hands back now."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Why's that?"

"Because I want to…" Inara watched his face as she whispered a few concise words in his ear. She felt a thrill as his expression changed. Mal quickly released his hold on her to run his hands lightly over her sensitized skin, watching in fascination as his touches made her shiver again.

Mal started to move, but the touch of her hands on his hips, the tiny shake of her head, the raised eyebrow stopped him. "Like we were before?" He tilted his head briefly, indicating the floor next to the bed.

Inara nodded, smiling beatifically. "Oh, yes." She held on while he wrapped an arm around her and lifted, settling her onto his lap as he knelt by the bed. This larger movement activated the motion sensors, and the dim lights glowed brighter. His eyes moved hungrily over her as she began with the same deliberate lack of speed he'd given her earlier. She heard him gasp against her neck, then chuckle as he saw her smile.

"Wicked." He drew a finger around her belly button.

She touched him, leaned slightly back against the edge of the bed. "Watch me."

His eyes travelled her again and again, seemingly needing to see everything at once. Inara watched him as closely, watched his face as he'd watched hers, joy and power filling her as she saw her effect on him.  
When it became absolutely necessary for him to move, she allowed it, encouraged him with her body and her touches and the wild, soft words she whispered to him as she kissed him. They moved back to the bed, both moving much faster now until he cried out her name and they lay, spent and panting and stickier than before.

Mal's voice was slightly muffled by the pillow. "Now, I'm sleeping."

She rolled on her side scooting back to nestle against him. He pulled her closer, draping his arm over her waist. She felt his breathing become more even, This time she knew for sure he slept. She looked around the room as the lights dimmed, and smiled.

He'd called it making love. And it was. All night they made love, slept, and made love again, sating hunger, keeping vigil for each other against the loneliness and the sorrow. Welcoming hope with kisses, whispered endearments and a few tears. Inara had never felt more..._more what?_, she asked herself. The answer came a moment later. _More_.

------------------

Mal woke up – a little tired, a little spent, a little sore but entirely content. He was immediately aware of Inara, sleeping on him. The narrow bunk barely held the two of them but it was right pleasant the feel of her laying on him. He'd had the bunk to himself for - well, for as long as he'd had the bunk. And then some. But this morning was different. This morning, Inara loved him.

Only yesterday, he'd awakened alone, fretting on how to get his crew through the holiday. Thinking on the shopping expedition, counseling himself not to say anything humpish to Inara. Not to start a fight. Not to let her go and start one, either. Then shopping and cocoa and some soft words in the falling snow and...Inara loved him. Spent the night with him, had fallen asleep in his arms, apparently too exhausted to retrieve the blankets from the floor. Mal smiled up at the ceiling.

The last night had been…well, unbelievable was the first word that came to mind. He tightened his hold on her, touching the memory of every day that she had been gone. Funny that it should be the case, they were so alike in their wretchedness. But it hadn't been a blur. Every moment had been perfectly, painfully articulated. Without her. Watching his luck go from bad to worse, job after job slipping into disaster. Tending to the distance between himself and everyone in his crew, seeing it grow. And the gorramn capture.

He'd thrown it away. Didn't need it. Weren't likely he'd forget the look of her. Thrown it away, bitter anger coursing through him. Toward both of them. Toward himself, for letting hope rise up in him again. Toward her, for just stepping into her shiny new life without a backwards glance.

Thrown it away and had to go get it back later that night, when the rest of his life stretched out empty before him and if the gorramn capture was the only way he'd ever see her and hear her raw honey voice again, he planned to hold onto it.

Which he did. But stored well away, not a weakness to be indulged every day. Only - only when the hurt got so he couldn't stand the need for her any longer. He'd drag it out from where he had it stowed, watch and listen and hurt more. "That man doesn't know what he wants."

She'd been wrong. He'd known exactly what he'd wanted and before he'd had the chance to tell her, she ran off like a Reaver was on her tail. Couldn't get off the ship fast enough. But that was then...

And here she was. Her head on his chest, her legs entwined with his. Mal tilted his head to get a look at her, sleeping. A drift of soft curls, her sooty lashes resting on her cheek. He didn't want to move, just feel her breathing, smell her hair, but he realized he'd been stroking her skin, for how long he didn't know. His hands glided again over her naked back.

Over her naked - naked - back, and farther down. Then right back up again. Better not. Best to let her sleep. Wouldn't do, her awakening to find him groping at her like some kind of depraved, opportunistic lummox. Presumptuous, that would be. She might not want...

She might. One more thing to learn, thinking of all the things he's learned about her preferences and sensitivities in the past few hours - how she likes to wake up.

And she hadn't been shy about waking _him_ up in the night.

Had she felt just a little bit cold? He might could check. Mal moved his hands down her again, closing his eyes at the unbelievable softness of her skin.

He let go of her with one arm and reached, stretching, feeling around for the blankets that had landed - been thrown - on the floor in the night, to drape over her. To keep her warm. Like she was keeping him warm. Mal realized that all this stretching and reaching meant he was moving against her, a little bit. Noticing how good she felt. Noticing how his body is, and has been...noticing.

Mal resolved again to let her sleep. The gentlemanly thing to do. Long as she pleases. He smoothed the blankets where they lay over her back and hips, tucked his hands under the blankets against the miracle of her skin, and closed his eyes again.

It wasn't long before he felt her waken. The rhythm of her breathing changed slightly. She didn't shift her position, just lay still and quiet. What was she thinking? It had been perfect between them, all night. He'd thought so. But she wasn't saying anything. Was this going to be uncomfortable? Them fumbling for words instead fumbling for each other?

Not that there had been excessive amounts of - fumbling. The way she'd reacted, the look and sound, the _feel_ of her - he strongly suspected he'd acquitted himself ok.

Be that as it may, he was naked. She was on top of him. Just as naked. It would be a pretty trick, to pull off a casual conversation.

"Good _morning_." Her voice richly sensual, husky, pleased. She'd apparently noticed his noticing. Didn't seem to mind one bitty bit.

"Morning." He waited as she stretched for what seemed like an eternity before she looked up and met his gaze. But that was it for the morning conversation. His hand drifted down her back before sliding her body up until her face was next to his.

He looked into her eyes, looking for confirmation that last night had been real. He knew he hadn't dreamed her words, never allowed himself to imagine she might say such a thing to him. Words she'd repeated, in the softest voice, answering his own, just before sleep.

She met his gaze, truth shining in her eyes. He searched her eyes, trying to find a hint of regret and found none. What he saw was happiness, hope, and more than a little bit of mischief. She wiggled against him, then drummed her fingers on his chest as she settled her chin into the palm of the other hand. "Hmmmm, what did I want to do this morning...." His hands went to her provocatively moving hips, but before he could shape a reply, she beamed at him, leaning down for a kiss.

And had him remind her.

----------------------

Mal's head rested on Inara's belly.

"I'm starving." She absently ran her fingers through his tousled hair. "Do you think there's any food left?"

"Might be so - if Jayne's not plundering every corner of the galley as we speak."

"I wonder if anyone is up. It's still quite early."

Anyone. The others. He kissed her belly button before rolling onto his side to look up at her, his head resting on his hand.

"Thought about how you want to play this? With everyone?"

"I'm not ashamed of how I feel."

Relief. He didn't want to sneak around, on his own ship, like some kid. Well, yes he surely did, thinking of the long hours between morning and night, and all the hidden places on Serenity where they might steal a few minutes alone...but the idea of compulsory sneaking around was wearisome. One night of that had been - however exciting - sufficient. Mal wondered, idly, what Kaylee's surprise movie had been about. Had there been a swimming pool? He realized he was hungry, leaned in and kissed Inara's bare skin again before sitting up.

"Tell you what." He reached for his pants, pulling them on as she watched, smiling, still stretched out on his bed. "You stay right there, I'll make a galley run, see what I can procure for us - call it a pre-breakfast...breakfast."

Inara grinned and stretched, nodded her agreement and snuggled the sheets and blankets around her. "Breakfast in bed?" She pulled the pillow from where it had gotten stuck between the bunk and the wall, lay her head back on it and blinked up at him, her lashes moving like a graceful curtsy. "That sounds perfect."  
Walking away from a bed she was in was not his favorite part of the morning, but Mal figured he'd be right back. He'd checked the clock earlier, and they still had a few hours before the morning's sledding expedition was to start.

Got to the galley and started hot kettles for coffee and tea. Fished around in her cabinet for a minute, finding her tea stuff. Started to retrieve two mugs from the cupboard, then checked himself. Two mugs of steaming hot beverages, two hands, one ladder. He thought about it for a moment, then smiled in satisfaction as he remembered the thermoses from their sleigh ride.

He had just finished wrapping various cookies, chips, and cheese in a large napkin and tucking both thermoses between his chest and his bent arm when he heard a quiet step behind him. Mal turned. Simon stood in the galley's entrance, in his undershirt and stockinged feet, carefully not noticing his lack of a shirt, the quantity of thermoses, or the two kettles steaming on the stove. The two men spent an undefined moment opposite each other, then both nodded. Stepped around each other in the tiny galley, and proceeded with their business.

And his business was getting breakfast, and himself, back into bed with Inara. Maybe just snuggling - maybe. Even so, it was going to beat the hell out of sitting on one of the hard wooden chairs at the galley, her across from him, all dressed and untouchable. He climbed down the ladder and clanged the door shut. She was still in bed. Merry Christmas.

"Cookies?" Her eyebrow lifted in amusement.

"Cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast."

She smiled, sitting up not bothering to wrap the blanket around her. He sat down next to her, watching her watch him as they ate. His interest in the snack diminished considerably.

He cast about for a neutral topic, the woman had to eat. "All set for sledding?"

She nodded. "Should be fun."

"Got clothes? I mean warm sledding clothes? Want to make sure you've got layers between the cold air and your...skin." He paused, a little distracted by her nakedness. "More layers is better." He decided to ignore her_ I know that _look, and continued, ""I got a warm woolly undershirt, got shrunk in the laundry, maybe you could put on..."

"Thank you. I've gathered some things here and there." She paused, thinking. "Which reminds me. I need ---"

"Anything you need." He reached for another cookie and took a bite, realizing he was hungrier than he thought.

"What I need is at the Training House."

The cookie turned to frozen ashes in his mouth. He swallowed the now tasteless food, looking at her in disbelief.

"Mal, you must admit I can't continue living as I have been."

He knew it. She was running. How could he be so stupid? The woman was worse than him when it came to sticking it out when her heart was on the line. He stared at her, bleak rage trickling out of his heart, freezing everything as it moved through him.

Inara's eyes widened at his expression. "What are you---?"

Mal choked the words out. "What was this? A gorramn Christmas present?" He felt sick, poisoned. The hope that she had dangled in front of his heart withered away. She loved him. He knew it. But love didn't make her a stupid woman. Now he could only hope she'd do him the kindness, at least let him know when in the night it had happened. Save him from scraping his heart raw over it, remembering every moment, trying to put his finger on it. What had happened, what had she seen that made her decide, love or no, he was a bad bet and she'd better cut her losses? Or, had she planned it this way all along?

"Mal, I didn't mean - "

Mal flung his unopened thermos on the floor, his coffee dribbling onto the floor. He was sure she'd expect him to rage at her. Well, she'd have to do her running without any help from him. He didn't aim to make it easy for her, give her a handy excuse. "Be nice to know just when it was you decided to run, Inara. Save me the trouble of puzzling over everything we did, trying to find... " Mal found he couldn't finish the thought. His voice sounded foreign, like a low drumbeat in his ears. "Truly be a kindness."

As he stared at her, fighting to get a breath of air in his body, fighting to keep his feet, fighting the impulse to fling his bitter pain at her with the ugliest words he knew, he saw her furrow her brow and start to speak. Stop, take a careful breath, then start again. Figuring how to defend herself? How to make it all ok? How to make him see it just wouldn't work and this plan of hers that was wrenching viciously through his gut was really for the best? Inara started and stopped again, smoothing one hand down the opposite arm. All the while watching him. She shook her head just a little, then, unbelievably, smiled lovingly, just exactly as if she meant it, and closed the distance between them.

"It's these clothes." Smiled up at him, even caressed his shoulder, his neck, and tightly clenched jaw.

Had she gone ruttin' insane? "Sexin' ain't gonna make this right, 'Nara." Forcing himself to keep still, rather than grabbing her and dropping her on his bed, the gorramn bed that still _smelled_ like her, and making some idiotic, doomed attempt to change her mind.

"I've observed that the only time you're reliably good-natured is when you're naked. So it must be something in your clothing that's a terrible irritant to your well-being." Inara raised an eyebrow, ignored his glowering, and put her arms around him. When she spoke again, her eyes had softened and her voice was tender music. "I want to retrieve my _things_, Mal." Her eyes were filling. "And bring them home." The last word, only a whisper. She raised up on tip toe and planted a soft kiss on his mouth. "I love you."

Mal heard the rough noise of his own gasping breath, caught in his throat. He was holding onto something, hard. It was her, and her arms were tight around him as they leaned into each other. He breathed again, raggedly still, pulled back to search her face, just inches from his.

"Did you imagine you are so easy to leave?" Her voice was so gentle. "It broke my heart last time, and now...." Inara kissed him before leaning back to look at him. Her eyes narrowed, a spark of fire within. "Hear my words - I will fight to keep what we have, fight anyone I have to."

"You mean me." It wasn't a question. He'd seen her _significant_ glance, he could draw a gorramn inference.

She rolled her eyes, letting him know that much should have been abundantly clear. "Of course I mean you."

"Mal, I want…" She paused, looking over his shoulder before lifting her eyes to his. "I want more. I want this love between us to have a chance. And that means staying here with you."

He'd wanted to live, enough to do what he'd done to get them to Miranda and back. Wanted to keep their family together. Wanted to take a deep breath without wincing too bad. And wanted to find if there was a way to her. He had found a way to her but he wanted, needed more. Needed to live, really live, not exist as he had been doing for so long now. Hope. He saw her own hope shining in her eyes.

He couldn't speak so he just nodded his head. They looked at each other and he could see the slight apprehension in her eyes. Mal drew her closer surprised that he had forgotten she was, well, naked. His hands drifted over her skin as he looked down at her.

Words. He needed to find some, to let her know what her courage, what the chance to love her, meant to him. "Inara. For you - for us - I - I'll try."

She nodded, and they fell to kissing, which had, very lately, become the easy, familiar territory for Mal. Him shirtless, her still naked as an egg, things were shiny and getting better by the tick. But she pulled away, and they both laughed a little, glancing at the bunk with its messy tangle of sheets and blankets. He saw Inara gesture at her hair, in enchanting disarray and telegraphing _wild sex _to anyone who might see, and shake her head at him. He nodded his understanding and kissed her.

Inara picked up her stockings. "I told Kaylee I would help with breakfast."

He sat on his bed, watching her sort through the clothes scattered about his room. "Must say as far as fighting goes, this here's..." He gestured with one hand, smiling warmly at the lovely nakedness of her, "… my new preferred way."

"Is it?" She smiled absently, looking around the room.

"Lost your drawers, have you?"

"You could help. They didn't get _lost_ without help."

He got up intending to help her find all the clothes she came in with but he remembered something. He went to his small closet, rifling around until he found what he was looking for. Turning around, he was disappointed to see her putting on her dress. Guess she gave up looking for all her clothes.

He handed her the shirt. "It'll keep you warm."

She looked down at the shirt. Warm yes but lime green. Mal was hard pressed to remember how he had come upon such an item. She held it up in front of her. It hung down to her knees. Shaking her head slightly, she looked back up at him.

"And I still need my things."

"Ok, then."

She nodded and walked to the ladder, looking back at him. She was beautifully disarrayed. Her hair the messiest he had ever seen, her dress not closed properly, and he knew she was nakeder under that dress. She never looked so beautiful as she did then. She smiled at him, her smile a touch on the nervous side but he wasn't worried. She loved him, was staying with him, wanted to see where this thing between them would go. He watched as she ascended the ladder and heard the hatch close. Grinning to himself, he whistled a Christmas song.


End file.
